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noeou · 1 year

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COMPETITION ASIDE! —- octavinelle + pomefiore

( modern au! ) when they find out you’ve been working beyond your limit.

. . . ⟢ GENRE: fluff.

. . . ⟢ NOTES: old format for this post ‘cause im finishing this prompt. never got the chance to and i love it <3

[ azul ashengrotto | ceo and personal secretary. ]

as your boss, he was under the impression your day ended when his did. that’s why he didn’t work overtime at the office, so you could go home when he did. sometimes you stayed at his place when you worked late together, but that wasn’t too often.

he was concerned when you didn’t show up to his house at six in the morning, per usual. you weren’t ever late in the years he’s been working with you so he wasn’t mad you weren’t there, sure he was irritated but whatever.

when you don’t respond to his texts and show no signs of having shown up at the office, he gets worried. he drives himself to your place, despite the tweel’s protests that one of them should drive him, to check on you.

when i say he panics when you open the door, i mean he panics. you were in the same clothes you wore the day prior, hair a mess, and eyes deprived of sleep.

he pushes down the guilty feeling when he sees the same feelings occupy your eyes. he pulls you close with a hum of acknowledgment, then dragging you inside.

“you didn’t sleep well, if at all, did you?” azul shook his head, admiring your effort as well as your beauty. “go get ready, i’ll inform jade of our absences— ah, don’t object. you’ve earned a day of rest, i’ll see that you get it.”

[ jade leech | company secretary and employee. ]

made checking up on you apart of his duties, without being aware of it. he always stopped by your division just to see you, even if you didn’t notice him.

he was running late one day, unexpected errands his coworker piled up for him were holding him up. he got to your division at lunch, under the pretense he was checking on your project and he was beyond surprised.

your division was empty, as they probably went out for lunch, except for you; a uniform jacket was draped on your shoulder. jade was yet to figure out what pissed him off more: you not sleeping properly or another person taking better care of you than he was.

regardless, he shot a text to azul and tidied up your desk. when he was satisfied, he folded the jacket with an unknown owner and wrote on one of your post-it notes a thanks and put it on top before carrying you to his car.

you woke up at this point, it took everything in him for jade not to scold you on the spot. somehow he succeeded, letting out an uncharacteristic hum to lull you back to sleep.

after settling you into a guest room; jade prepared water, soup, extra pillows, extra blankets, anything you’d need as if you were sick. “i swear, the anxiety you give me takes year off my life.” you may or may not wake up to him asleep in a chair across from you.

[ floyd leech | employee and division leader. ]

unlike the former two, you’re floyd’s superior (aka his boss.) you worked in the testing division, you came up with food ideas and tested them for production.

you worked the most out of your team. yes they worked hard, but at work you were revising theirs; it’s only in overtime you get a chance to work on your own.

he was very much the attend all division parties type of guy, it’s one of the many things that made the both of you so different.

the recent month has been the busiest for you all, and shock horror— the crew decided to celebrate with a party. you were there as they planned on where to go outside the building, only cause you were looking for your keys and the inner parking lot was extremely dark.

floyd took this opportunity to wave said keys in front of you with a scheming grin.

“celebrate with me, l/n. we can go wherever you want… on me.” while it was uncharacteristic of him to offer to pay, you accepted. mainly cause you had nothing better to do, and also the fact you were his ride home so you wouldn’t here the end of it,

[ vil schoenheit | actor and preforming arts student. ]

allow me to start with you are an adult, in college in this timeline.

vil is an alumni at your school, it’s how you met. actually, it’s more because he was a prodigy that breezed right through the course, leaving you behind for another year or so.

guiding you where he could, vil was able to keep tabs on your well being. while he didn’t really struggle with school, it was quite different for you. having the tendency to hyper focus and forget the outside world, vil’s been the anchor to bring you back.

this weighed on him when he was offered an overseas project. while you reassured him to take care of yourself, he knew he’d be too busy to check that.

nonetheless, he went. it was quite clear within the first week, he’d be busier than you both expected. it was radio silence on his end; but you still made an effort to record yourself do skincare when talking about your day and sent it to him in place of face timing.

but what matters in behind the scenes, something that was meant to be his expertise. returning to your private doctor watching over you while you were on bed rest after fainting at school was most certainly unexpected, but not too shocking,

“what did i tell you about taking care of yourself? did we not make an agreement?” he scolded as your doctor took her leave. it took a while until he moved on from it; had only he knew his silence and exams on top of that caused you to be so anxious you fainted and not your lack of rest.. maybe he would’ve let you off the hook.

[ rook hunt | idol and manager. ]

tries not to bother you unless necessary because his group members can already be a handful, but makes sure to talk to you everyday (if that makes sense.) it doesn’t matter if it’s just hello, he’d prefer have a positive relationship with you.

one night you misdialed him, confusing rook a lot. he was surprised by the tiredness in your voice and your weak laugh when you realized it was him you called by mistake.

he stayed on the phone with you until you fell asleep, talking about random things. he didn’t hang up when you stopped responding, he actually went to go get you, your office wasn’t far away from where they practiced so he’d pick you up before going to the dorms.

it was at this point, being the leader of his group held an entirely different meaning and responsibility. slowly but surely, the other members stopped relying on you for all the trivial things, lifting a large weight off of your shoulders.

not only that, a new maturity settled in rook that you didn’t recognize. you weren’t sure what exactly prompted such a change as your memory of the night was hazy, but you were grateful no less.

“i already have their lunch handled. eat with me again, hm?” how could you disagree, your little lunch days were a welcome addition to your schedule.

[ epel felmier | farmer and baker. ]

you and epel are childhood friends, so knowing you well was something he prided himself in.

recently, you entered a baking competition and he was your partner (an honor, truly.) he couldn’t help but notice how much wasted bread began filling the trash cans in your kitchen.

while he wasn’t as skilled as you in the bread making department, he still made the effort of learning through online tutorials so he wasn’t clueless.

being the man of many talents he is, he seemingly surpassed your skill when you first started, however that wasn’t the point.

his intention was to learn terminology and the ‘baking dictionary’ per say, in an attempt to understand your ranting about your struggle in ‘lacking perfection’ better.

epel did make sure to carve you a special pastry as an reward, regardless of if you won or not. baking isn’t as easy as you made it look and he wouldn’t ignore that.

“each pastry tastes better than the last, don’t worry. you’re not giving yourself enough credit.” before you could protest, epel shoved a piece of the bread in your mouth with a smile, “—ah, i won’t hear otherwise.”

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rkay07 · 7 months

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Down With a Headache

Modern AU!Jay Schlatt x Fem!Reader

(You and Schlatt are best friend and go to school together but when he finds out you have a headache everything changes)

Fluff.

Warning - A/N: This was heavily rushed, the editing I mean, so I'm so sorry if it doesn't seems as good but this one is just a filler for the time being, Physical Touch.

Word Count: 1.9k

Last period ended about 90 seconds ago and this dumb headache still won’t go away. You had plans to hang out with friends later but with this thing pounding like a jackhammer who knows if you’ll be able to stand up when you get home. You step out onto the sidewalk ready to take the longest and most painful walk of your life when a truck pulls up next to you rolling down their window, “Weird of you to walk without your headphones on, huh?” Of course it was your best friend, Jay. “Yeah Jay, sometimes a girl needs to think, you should try it sometime.” “Which one being a girl or thinking?” He grinned and came to a complete stop on the side of the road. You turned to look at him, “Really.” you rubbed your forehead. “Ok, I’m sorry.” He raised his hands up in surrender. “What’s up?” You painfully look up to the sky and back at him with a big sign, “Is it ok if you drive me home?” A serious look came across his face at your request. You’ve only asked him once to drive you home and it was only because it was late at night, reasonable, but in broad daylight and 60 degree weather was a little crazy in his opinion. He parks the car and walks over to you. “Hey,” He tried to catch your gaze but it was too far to keep a hold of, he puts his hands on your shoulder and squeezes them. “What’s wrong, doll?” You couldn’t stand it when he called you that but it’s not because you hated it but because you loved it, you give in and look up at him. His brown eyes felt as if they were searching your soul for the answer you weren’t giving him. “Jay, I’m fine, can you take me home or not?” He frowned at your response but not wanting you to wait any longer, he agreed.

He pulls into your driveway. You notice that your mom’s car isn’t there, “Well that’s just great…” He looks at you and puts the truck in park “What?” You open the door and step out, “Thanks, tell the others I won’t be able to make it tonight.” He raises an eyebrow and opens his side door, “What do you mean, you aren’t coming?” He notices that you weren’t slowing down so he gets out of the truck to catch you, gently grabbing your hand. “I know you like being stubborn and all but why won’t you tell me what's wrong, you were quiet the whole ride here and you didn’t sing a single song on the radio. I mean, I don’t know about you but that doesn't sound like the girl I know, hm?” You look down at your interlocked fingers, blushing, you take a big breath, “Alright, fine. Jay, I have a headache and it’s been pounding for most of the day. All I want to do right now is lay in bed with some hot tea and a movie playing in the background, is that too much to ask?” Feeling embarrassed you glance at Jay’s hand, still holding yours. “I…didn’t want you to worry.” A smile tugs at his lip, “Doll, I worry about you already, but…” He slowly moves his free hand to cup your face, “...But this time is different.” He closes his eyes as he brought the hand holding yours to his lips planting a kiss on your warm palm. You didn’t flinch, you didn't pull back, you simply let it happen. You admire his gesture with a smile, you bring both hands up to his face, running your thumbs along his cheeks but with the headache still not gone you struggle to keep a smile on your face. You lean your head against his chest, snuggling into his body. “I’m sorry, you probably want to go inside?” He says looking back at your front door. You nod against his chest.

Just as you both were heading to the door you hear a car horn blare from the street, you and Jay turn to see who it was. “What are you two love birds doin’ here and not at the spot we talked about?” Ted, you thought. You look at Jay,“I’m guessing you didn’t tell them I wasn’t coming?” you mumble. Jay looks down at you with a chuckle, “You mean we?” Your eyes widened, “What-” He turns to the street and shouts towards Ted, “Um, yeah Ted, we’re not going to be able to make it tonight. I’ll text you later.” Ted was going to say something but Jay pushes you through the door before he can get anything out.

You saw Ted’s car drive down the street from your window, “That was a little rude of you to cut him off like that.” He rolls his eyes, taking your hand and leading you to your bedroom. “I was nice enough to let him talk, doll.” He opens your bedroom door and lets you sit on your bed. Flustered, you hesitate to speak, “You’re not thinking what I’m thinking right?” you say as you raise your eyebrow. He leans towards you with his hands on your bed, “Get your head outta the gutter, miss, you’re going to rest.” he smirks and walks over to your closet. You stand up to help him, “Just because you’ve been here before doesn’t mean-” But as you speak the headache pounds a little harder than normal making you wince at the feeling. “That’s why I walked over here alone.” He grabs your waist making you grab his shoulders, slowly, he guides you back to the bed. He mutters, “Stay here.” You take one look at him and know he’s being serious, you raise your hands in surrender. He walks back over to the closet and pulls out a hoodie and shorts for you. He hands them to you, “I’ll be waiting outside.” He went to walk out but you held his hand. You stood up slowly, not wanting to wake the beast inside your head, “Thank you, Jay.” you say softly, almost weak. He scans your features then cups your face with his hands, “I’ll help you in any way, shape, or form, ok?” You give him a small nod, running your fingers along his forearm, “Ok.” He takes one last look at you then places a kiss on your forehead. As if the pain had slipped away with the kiss, you felt a lot better, you watch him as he walks out of the room, closing the door behind.

The both of you were sitting on the couch with chai tea and a movie playing in the background. You didn’t think he would have remembered your request but when you walked downstairs to the living room, he had snacks ready for the both of you and water heating up in the kitchen. You didn’t want to watch anything that would make you cry too hard, laugh too loud, or smile too big, so your options were very limited. “That’s impossible. Can you pick one?” He said with his head leaned back onto the couch and his arm around your shoulder. You happily said no to him. He glanced at you then back at the tv. A ring came from his side of the couch, “Ah shit…” It was Ted, he forgot to text him and now Ted was calling him. You look at him, “Take it, he’ll ask a bunch of questions if you don’t.” He signs and says sorry under his breath as he gets up. He doesn’t walk far to take the call, a few feet behind the couch was good. “Hey Ted, sorry I totally forgot to text you when we got inside,” He hesitates to say the next line, “I was busy.” You could hear Ted from the couch when he spoke, “What were you doing to be too busy to text me at least four words?! Oh no sorry let me rephrase that, who were you doing!” You laugh but Schlatt doesn’t, he walks to the kitchen.

Jay’s tone got low, “Dude, stop, just stop. I’m taking care of her, she looked like she was in physical pain with this headache that she has.” Ted cocks his head and squints his eyes, “Oh yeah, you definitely couldn’t have done it if she had a headache.” Jay palms his face, “Jeez, Ted, can you not think about sex for like two seconds!” Jay leans onto the counter with his elbows. “I’m just saying, headaches are really bad and I would never want one while doing it.” Ted shrugs his shoulders but Jay is not relaxed at all, he rubs his forehead with his fingers. “TED!” He said it a little louder than expected but he was trying his best to keep his cool. Ted breathes in, “Ok, ok. I was messing around. I know you really like this girl, I’m sorry.” Ted was about to say something else but holds his tongue. Jay clicks his tongue, “Thank you,” he pauses to look over at you, “And I’m sorry again for not being able to make it tonight.” Ted starts his car up, “No worries dude, go take care of your girl and then go take care of her some more afterwards.” Ted didn’t mean to wink but he did and Jay knew. “God, Ted. Whatever- thank you, bye.” He hangs up on Ted before he could get another word in.

Walking back to the living room, he notices you grab the remote and start looking through the movies. “Find one yet?” Trying to sound peppy but failing quite miserably. You look at him funny because of his tone, “Ted giving you a hard time?” He scoffs and sits down next to you putting his arm around you again, “Would you call it a hard time or him just being himself?” You let out a single laugh and went back to scrolling through the tv, “I guess it would be him being himself.”

You found one of your favorite movies to watch and made sure it checked off all the boxes for tonight. “This is one of my favorite movies so you better like it.” He looks down at you, “Or what?” You glance up at him actually thinking of a good response, “Or I’ll make you sit in the other chair.” He gasps so loud you almost thought he was drowning, “Then I guess I should like the movie?” You turn your whole body towards him trying your best to seem taller than him at the moment, “Yeah, I guess you should.” You look down at him, placing a hand on his neck, moving his hoodie further away from it. You glide your thumb across his jawline, making him gulp at your touch, it being so cold and so hot at the same time. Pressing a hand against your waist, he eyes your lips for a long second, wetting his lips before going back to your eyes, “May I?” he asks quietly. You nod, letting him go first. His soft lips finding their way to yours, bringing a rush of heat to your cheeks. You run your hand through his hair as you kiss him back, beginning a passionate kiss between the two of you.

#jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt #schlatt fluff #schlatt x reader #jschlatt fluff #schlatt x y/n #jschlatt x y/n

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mrmaybank · 1 year

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FEM ALLEGED DNI

Fandom: IT

Title: Someone who loves you wouldn’t do this

Character(s): the whole Bowers gang + Butch

Request: No

Genre: Angst + a tiny bit of fluff

TW: Butch Bowers :)

A/N: i’m in love with idea so get ready for more fics with the reader being Henry’s younger brother, this has a modern AU to it and reader is the same age as the losers.

Masterlist

Belch stopped in front of the bowers house then turned to the back seat where (M/N), Henry’s little brother, was seating with Patrick and Vic. (M/N) grabbed his backpack and opened the door getting out, “Tell Hen we hope he feels better,” Vic told him.

“Well do!” (M/N) Responded. (H/C) boy walked up the short driveway to his front door pulling out his key and waving to Belch, Patrick, and Vic drove off in the blue Trans-Am. The (E/C) boy used his key to unlock door, and was immediately met with screaming.

His older brother was wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxers and a black t-shirt, with a blanket looked about seconds away from falling off his shoulders. What was most notable was that his brother didn’t have his usually poker face on, he was showing how he really feel. Which seemed to be tired and feed up.

Henry looked like he was about to say something when he made eye contact with you and his whole demeanor changed. He motioned the stairs with his head then mouthed ‘go’ at (M/N). But Butch seemed to catch on because he turned a looked to see (M/N) who stood there frozen.

Before he could do anything he was yanked over to the ground by his father. “Dad, don’t,” Henry spoke in a voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah? And why shouldn’t I?” Butch asked.

“Because this is between me and you,” Henry used his hand to gestures him and butch, “you don’t need to involve him,” Henry told his father.

“Well I want to,” Butch sneered before delivering a swift kick to his youngest’s son stomach.

“Dad!” Henry screamed. Another kick was delivered to (M/N) stomach and another as Henry just to stop his father. Henry grabbed his dad’s shoulder trying to pull him away from his little brother. “Dad, stop please!” Henry exclaimed.

Butch turned to face his oldest son, “This what you get for not following orders,” He hissed before delivering yet another kick to (M/N).

Who was now sobbing on the floor, “stop, please,” the eleven year old cried.

“Dad please,” Henry begged. After what felt eternity of Henry trying to pull his father away from his brother, who was delivering after kick to the poor boy he stopped.

Henry quickly moved next to his little brother and looked from him to Butch. Who just sneered at the two of them, “Maybe next time you’ll be more obedient,” he hissed, “now go to your rooms, I don’t wanna see your faces anymore,” Henry watch as his father walked off.

Then quickly down at his little brother, “Were gonna upstairs, your gonna go to your room and pack a pair of pajamas and change of clothes. Then come straight to my room okay?”

(M/N) nodded, Henry helped him upstairs and into his room where he grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a black t-shirt and pajamas pants in there. Along with a Nirvana hoodie and a pair of jeans. He made he slowly made his way to his brother’s room trying to push down the pain in his stomach.

He opened the door and found his brother sitting on the bed with backpack next to him. He was now wearing sweat pants and different t-shirt. Henry turned smiled at his little brother motioning for him to join him on the bed. (M/N) did just that placing his bag in his lap, “Vic’s gonna he here two minutes,” Henry told (M/N).

“Okay,” (M/N) replied. Henry wrapped an around his little brother’s shoulder, they sat there in silence until Henry’s phone went off signaling Vic was here.

They quickly made there way out of the house using the window and entered Vic’s car. Henry in the front while (M/N) sat in the back. No body talked for the first two of minutes of the car drive. “Do you two wanna…,” Vic trailed off.

“No,” both of them said in unison.

“Okay,” Vic replied. He reached over and placed a hand on Henry’s thigh and if (M/N) saw this he certainly didn’t say anything about it. After ten minutes later they pulled into Vic’s driveway, “my parents are gone for the next two weeks,” he informed them.

He lead them inside and into the living room. Where the brothers sat down on the couch, Vic sighed and kneeled down in front of them. “Okay, I know the both of you aren’t ones for emotional shit and opening up. But I am so i’m gonna tell you this now, I don’t know what he did or what said. But I can assure you don’t deserve that at all. Butch Bowers is a fucking idiot if he can’t see how special his two sons are,” Vic told them.

None of them said anything after that, Vic turned on the TV and sat down next to Henry. Who wrapped an around both of his boys pulling them in. (M/N) buried his face in his brother’s side who started rubbing his hand up and down his back. “He can’t hurt you right now,” Henry told him, “And I won’t ever let him hurt you again,” Henry promised.

#Henry bowers x brother!reader #male reader #vic criss #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #Butch Bowers

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crimson-phantom-designs · 3 months

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More info on my modern au called Sweet Tooth.

Francis Osman is the leader of the Turkish Mafia in Western Europe. Fleeing Turkey years back, he established a brutal reputation as some of Europe's most sadistic gangsters. For now, Francis and his gang are keeping a low profile due to someone close to him flipping with Interpol, which resulted in something devastating he swore to never experience again. Whilst this, they are in conflict with the Clerkenwell crime syndicate, otherwise known as 'the torture gang'. An equally malicious mob of smugglers who, since the Turkish Arifs took over London's underworld scene, their battle for territory has come close to an all-out war. What with this recent development crippling all of their profits, they are trying to strangle Francis' hold on the area and take over.

Francis is tearing through the backroads of London in his cherished Porsche to meet with his underboss Verrill Özdemir "Demi" who orchestrated a Comission with the surrounding heads to try and prevent a gang war at a time no one can afford it. He's looking for an out, maybe. Or a way to funnel money in a more advantageous way to get profits 📈 again under federal scrutiny.

He might have found both options in a happenstance encounter with a man and his spunky 13 year old at the park over his need for speed and a damn candy bar, but which one will he choose? An out for himself with this man or will he burn the man's life down to reestablish his crew through manipulation, taking piece by piece, because 'it's just business'...

This is a previously established Jacob Marley/Ebenezer Scrooge au (they were more closer in age here cause, eh)

Jacob and Ebenezer had adopted a young girl from a tragic situation shortly after marriage and raised her when Jacob died in a fatal car accident with Eb's sister Jan seven years ago due to coming to the aid of someone Eb still despises for taking so much from them, even if the loss sent him a revelation in life. Eb has a fear of car accidents taking more from him, which is why he drives so slowly, especially with Beryl.

The story is a SMAU which means it will be written, but with these post, Instagram and text conversations in between with artwork for photos.

Handles below, and the differences in personality are amusing. Francis' just kills me. These Hands. Eb is just lonely and secretly pines, even if he's given up trying to find love again and pours that into his besotted devotion to Beryl but he does gripe politics and talk bitchy about his competitors. Bob is just here for support and to follow news facts and nature groups. He takes pictures from his timeshare cabin alot(even if Eb bitches it's a scam) and is insufferable about outdoorsy events with the family. Eventually the man will move them to the woods to be one with nature, I swear. XD More characters have handles but these are the main ones seen.

Being Francis would absolutely NOT use his full name or have a public account for liability reasons, he would be creative. His account is mainly to lurk other accounts(mafia modernized) and keep updated on current events. People that follow him are in his inner circle or he's baiting them to think they are.

The Oz is a reference to yes the Wizzard of Oz because of course he would see himself that way. XD

He's the man behind the scenes running everything. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!

@rom-e-o @sasha-geonn

Below are some examples of what they post before they meet.

#Demi is an OC fleshed out from the main story Fox and the Rose as well as other main OCs.#scroogeverse #SweetToothverse #SMAU #scroogeposting #oc francis osman #ebenezer scrooge #scrooge 2022

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weirdo09 · 1 year

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everything’s fair in love and soul

a bywheelclair modern au fic chapter 1

little tip: play “candy grapes” by fousheé (feat. steve lacy) when it comes up, you’ll know…

sometimes max mayfield can be bossy but, especially tonight as her friends, will and lucas would say. she has been begging them to go to a concert with her all week and eventually, they caved. “ah, yes! i knew you two would agree!” max exclaimed smugly. “yeah, yeah, yeah whatever, max but, who’s playing?” lucas said, rolling his eyes playfully at her. “oh, well i won’t tell you until we get there.” max replied with a shit eating grin. will and lucas both huffed but decided not to pester her further for max’s lips will most likely be sealed until they get to whatever concert she’s planned to go to. soon, max dragged will and lucas into her car and they were off.

“are you really sure that you won’t tell us who’s playing?” will asked curiously. max just looked at him through the mirror and kept driving. “just stop trying, you know her.” lucas whispered low enough for her not to hear. will nodded in agreement and looked out the window. the three of them have been friends since forever, well technically since elementary school but it feels like forever. him and lucas first meet in kindergarten and max soon joined them in third grade. they were your average gang of weird little kids and they’ve stuck together ever since. even when will came out to them, max and lucas didn’t treat him any different and when they(max and lucas) both came out as bisexual, will didn’t treat them different either.

will smiled at the memories of their friendship, so distracted by them that he didn’t hear max telling them that they arrived nor did he also hear lucas telling him. so, lucas shook him out of his day dream.(night dream?) “earth to will?” lucas said, slight worry creeping in his voice. will shook his head “oh, sorry are we there yet?” will replied with a dry chuckle. “yup, now c’mon i wanna see this band!” lucas said, grabbing will’s hand and dragging him out the car. they walked over to max, who was leaning against the entrance. “took you guys long enough, what were you doing, kissing?” max said jokingly but for some reason, it made will’s cheeks heat up and he nervously chuckled at the comment. “no, max but, can we go in now?” lucas asked, letting go of will’s hand making will miss the warmth. “yeah, yeah, c’mon now, grumpy pants.” max said, walking in the building with lucas and will close behind.

as they walked inside, will instantly felt the atmosphere began to shift, the overall mood of the place reminded him of one of those soul food places he’d occasionally pass by on his way to lucas’. it was like being transported to a whole new world and that feeling would continue to stay as the band began to start playing. “hey you guys, i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” max said before dashing through the crowds of people. will hummed in recognition, focusing on the stage and staying close to lucas.

suddenly, will heard the sound of soulfully guitar then the sound of a man’s vocals

‘oh, it’s easy to love me’

will felt like the world began to slow down around him like, it was finally at peace and he enjoyed that feeling.

‘try me, i swear’ ‘i’m gonna let down my hair’ ‘i’m gonna break things in here’

the vocalist seemed to gravitationally pull will closer towards the stage. he looked to see if anyone was feeling the same way and surely, lucas seemed to as well. this mysterious guy had jet black hair that reached to his shoulders, looked pretty tall, wore what seemed to be a flannel, some shirt with an artist on it, black jeans and black converses. ‘he’s hot..’ the thought struck will’s head and he couldn’t help but believe it.

‘i could hit you with the draco’

with that lyric, will remember the song, candy grapes. he remember the day that he first heard the song. he was at lucas’ and it played on his phone which suddenly made him want to slow dance. once, lucas heard what he was playing, they began to dance to the music together. will smiled at the adorably cheesy memory which also made him blush surprisingly.

‘you come for me, i don’t play fair’

will started swaying to the song, softly singing along.

‘some say we’re the weirdos’

by this time, max was already back from the bathroom. she herself was secretly singing in there along with the music, max smiled at her best friends enjoying the show. ‘i knew they would like this.’ max thought as she walked over to them.

‘i wanna be on your side(ooh, ooh, ooh)’

as the mystery guy sang this, it seemed like he sang that towards will, well at least to him, it did.

at the song’s end, everyone applauded some were even shouting appreciation. the main singer grinned and bowed along with the rest of the band. will’s mood shifted back to reality and he was met with max asking him and lucas, “did you enjoy the show, boys?” both of them hummed in agreement. “ok so, do you wanna meet them?” max then asked with a smile on her face. will and lucas’ eyes found each other, both looking like they were thinking the same thing, “is she serious right now?” max must’ve noticed their bewilderment because soon, she dragged backstage to meet the band.

as they walked backstage, will felt a knot in his stomach telling him ‘do you seriously like a guy you’ve never met?’ will thought about this then thinking ‘do i really?’

once they got backstage, will watched as max began hugging and fist pumping different members of the band. she stopped as she got to the mystery guy. “will, lucas, meet mike, mike wheeler.” max introduced, ‘so that’s his name..’ will thought and mentally noted. “i’m lucas, lucas sinclair.” lucas said smilingly. will took that as his queue to introduce himself. “oh, i’m will, will byers.” he said with a small wave.

mike smiled at both of them. “uhm, nice to meet the two of you. i’m mike as you know and if max’s hasn’t told you already, i’m one of her friends.” mike said with a small smile. will’s lips parted as if he was about to speak but no words came out though, his head was absolutely flooding with them. ‘his voice’s really nice.’ he thought as he also thought of what to say. “funny, max’s never mentioned you before, uhm nice to meet you too, mike.” will said sheepishly.

max took that as a sort of bonding moment but also a second thing. sure, max knew both of the two(mike and will) long enough to know when they had a crush and she was certain that will took a special liking to mike which clicked in her brain as a sign to get them together. then she took a glance at lucas and thought, ‘might as well add him too.’ max’s friends were all like open books to her and she was certain she’d at least make them more than acquaintances.

max smirked to herself and the others started talking about random things. “so, what made you decided to play candy grapes?” will asked with a hint of nervousness. “oh uhm, i just really liked the guitar and the vocals.” mike replied with a charming smile. weirdly, that made will feel…warm? “that’s cool, uh me too. when’s your guy’s next concert?” will said. “next friday, just so you know, you’re welcome backstage anytime. you too, lucas.” mike said with a wink.

max guffawed loudly, startling everyone in the room. she continued to laugh for 5 minutes straight. “what’s so funny, maxine?” mike asked sarcastically. slapping her knee, max replied “oh nothing, just you trying miserably to flirt with guys you just met.” mike’s face scrunched up as max continued to laugh, a little blush colored his facial features. will blushed as well, just a little darker in shade. lucas just laughed at max and mike. after max finally stopped laughing for the second time, she wiped an imaginary tear. “you are definitely something else, wheeler.” max said, chuckling. “yeah, yeah, you haven’t changed a bit since high school, mayfield.” mike said, cracking a smile.

when the gang(max, lucas and will) headed out, will asked max what she meant backstage. “oh don’t worry, will i meant nothing by it. unless, you actually do like mike.” max said, hopping in the driver’s seat. “har, har, har very funny.” will said dryly as he got in the backseat with lucas. lucas and max began arguing over what music they should play when will thought on what max said. ‘there’s no way.’ will thought, laughing.

what will happen next? possibly a little bywheelclair hangout? or matchmaker max? ;)

@shutuperce @foodiewithdahoodie @atbyler @eefonline @adorewillbyers @adoremikewheeler @xhavibee @yelenapines @pimplepogue @cgi-heart-eyes @shortcakezzzz

#bywheelclair #platonic byclairfield #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #will byers #max mayfield #stranger things fanfiction #cadence’s fics <3

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queenbananya · 1 year

Note

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks....

Hi! Thanks for the ask!

I always find these types of questions difficult to answer because I don't have a set list of characters ranked somewhere, especially if we're talking about all types of media, but I'm going to cheat a bit and look at my favorites from Mal. So, this will focus mostly on anime characters as that is the type of media I consume the most, with some others thrown in there as I remember. Not particularly in order:

1. ZURA. from Gintama

He's also the one from my profile icon. I love this guy. He's a fucking idiot. And he is absolutely hilarious he never fails to crack me up no matter what mood I'm in. I have a lot of characters from Gintama I love, but I tried to stick to just one from the entire series or they would take up all ten spots here, and from the entire cast, I have to give it to Zura. He's a terrorist, and comes up with the stupidest of plans, like flipping the toilet paper of his sworn enemy, LOL. He can go on and on about a story while he's driving a car and doesn't realize he is crashing in the meantime. And hence why he can't get a license (and the only reason he needs a license in the first place is so that he can get an ID to be able to rent DVDs of outdated dramas he thinks are trending [they're not]). I have to give praise to Sorachi, the mangaka. He must have been on crack while writing Zura scenes xD

2. Griffith from Berserk

Griffith. Beautiful Griffith.

Griffith gets a lot of hate and deservedly so, and there's a lot of Griffith apologists out there, but I love him. I fucking love him. He's such a well-written character. The best unreliable of narrators, though for most of the story we don't actually get into his head and only that of his archnemesis, his friend, the object of his dreams and desires, his ultimate source of failure, and success, later, I guess - Guts. So we only see how Guts sees him, and it's such a tragic story because the assumptions that Guts makes about him, the way he adores him and grows to hate him, they make sense, but to us as the viewers who know these two just loved each other so much to the point they threw away what they cared about the most - it's such a good story. I mourn for Miura and the story he never finished telling.

3. Joe from Ashita no Joe and Megalo box

Yabuki Joe.

This poor boy. I mention both Ashita no Joe and Megalo box because Megalo box was an anniversary special project based off of Ashita no Joe. Not another adaptation precisely, but more of a modern cyberpunk approach to the classic with more mature themes. I love both versions of Joe. In the older classic, you have this orphan boy that is happy roaming around doing nothing with his life, until he meets this drunk man that shoves boxing down his throat. It's your typical sports plot of stacking up win after win, until it isn't. The difference is in the characters, and their suffering, their growth. You learn to love Joe. He's an annoying little brat that wins your heart gradually, and towards the end, when it's over, you feel as though you've lost a friend.

In Megalo box, Joe is a bit older, and is dealing with things that are very real and that the og Joe would have also had to deal with, had things turned out differently. It's a great complement to the original. An AU of sorts.

4. The Fool from the Elderling series by Robin Hobb

The Fool. Beloved. Amber. They have many names and aliases, from Robin Hobbs' fantasy series The Elderlings.

Beloved is such an interesting character, not defined by any societal expectations and always confusing everyone with their words. We watch them grow throughout the series, from the king's creepy little jester that unsettles others, to an adult that is admittedly treated very harshly by the author (the story) but I still love to death. Here are some of my favorite quotes by the Fool:

"You are confusing plumbing and love again."

“As for what it means, how should I know? I’m a fool, not an interpreter of dreams. Good day.”

"Tomorrow owes you the sum of your yesterdays. No more than that. And no less."

“I have never been wise”

“Don’t do what you can’t undo, until you’ve considered what you can’t do once you’ve done it.”

5. Yang Wenli from LOTGH

Yang Wenli from the Legend of the galactic heros. A classic anime series and one of my favorites. Again, I struggled to only choose one character from the series, because I really love Reinhard as well- the other main character, but from the two I had to to with Yang Wenli.

LOTGH is a space war epic between two different states, the old galactic empire, and the newer, democratic planets alliance that broke free. Yang Wenli belongs to the latter. And while it may sound like the better choice-and he thinks so, as well-it's only the better choice from a theoretical standpoint. Because the one he's up against from the empire, Reinhard, is a wonderful leader. The kind that comes around only once in a century. Meanwhile the so called democracy is corrupt and ugly. Heading downhill while the empire is only getting better. And that's where the two collide. I love Yang Wenli for his idealism, his self awareness of his flaws, and those of others. He once says, 'if I was born in the empire I'd be flocking to join Reinhard's ranks'.

He's a realist, and a damn genius. And that's where the tragedy and irony strikes- because of the badly led and structured democracy he's in, he doesn't have full command of the army. He doesn't have any real power. All the corruption and red tape don't allow him to do much, to use his full potential, so he's always a step behind.

And yet. All he wants in life is to retire peacefully. He didn't even want to be a soldier, but he's dragged there by others, a bit of a pushover that he is. He's a tragic character really. Full of contradictions that he himself is aware of, and you can't help but love him for it.

6. Zhou Zishu from tian ya ke/word of honor

Zhou Zishu.

He is just. So. Relatable.

A burnt out man in his early 30s/late 20s who only wanted to live his last few years in peace. Essentially committed slow suicide to get the fuck out of his job because he couldn't take it anymore. We've all been there. Not that I'd take such drastic measures but. Who hasn't fantasized getting into an accident on their way to work to, you know, not go to work? Just me? OK. Moving on lol (according to reddit it's actually quite common. Sad that we live like this. Kudos to zishu for doing something about it).

The novel (tian ya ke) is quite different from the drama (word of honor), where the gif is from. The characterization is also a bit different, and I have to say I prefer novel! Zishu over drama! Zishu. He's more free, more shameless, learns to live without shackles and is not your typical protagonist. In fact, he's no protagonist at all. He's really just a side character, despite being the narrator of the story. Like many of us. But the man learns to be happy. Learns to fly free.

7. Wen Kexing from tian ya ke/word of honor

I broke my own rule about one character per series because there is no way I can have A'Xu (Zhou Zishu from above) listed anywhere without his Lao Wen. They come as a package anywhere they go. Anywhere. So here is my favorite malewife Wen Kexing. A beautiful, eerie man that looks more like a ghost. Knows how to cook. Knows how to clean. Knows how to split your throat in half with his bare fingertips.

He's terrifying. The king of all "ghosts"- the most brutal criminals. He's also someone that learns how to lower his defenses for the first time in his life. How to be a little bit selfless for once. To care for another. He's the one that teaches Zishu how to he shameless. He's fucking hilarious, a flirt, an unashamedly gay man that takes pride in all the men he's fucked and yet will cry crocodile tears to Zishu to let him get it on, and then he'll thank his dead sister for it later. I love these idiots. They're perfect for each other.

Also prefer the novel version of Wen Kexing, but the drama has a perfect cast and beautiful robes. I've got two replicas of them!

8. Nodame from Nodame Cantabile

Idiotic Nodame. Love this girl. She's hilarious and silly and isn't embarrassed to go after what she wants, even if she makes a fool of herself.

She's an aspiring pianist. A piano student to be precise, on the older side compared to her peers. But she's really great at it. Not in the traditional way, because she does things in her own way-- she's with the teacher designated for the worst students and spends an entire semester (or years? It's been a bit, I don't remember) composing a song about farts LOL.

She's a really likeable character, and what I really love about her is her stubbornness and grit to stick to what she wants. It's not something easy to do, and oftentimes we have to make decisions against our own wishes, especially when it comes to our careers. Nodame tries, but all she wants is to be a kindergarten piano teacher, but everyone tells her she shouldn't do that. In the end, her choices are hers and hers only.

9. Balsa from Moribito

I recently finished this anime and fell in love with the MC, Balsa.

It's not often we see strong female leads in anime, that are not only well written but stand on their own without relying on romance or other characters. She's an incredibly strong woman, both physically and emotionally. The series focuses on her growth and her bond with the little burden she's tasked to care for.

She is a little selfish, perhaps a bit too cold. Plain looking, and very much an adult at 30. And she looks like it! Not something you see often in anime. She's a great fighter, and through her journey with this child that she has to care for, she learns of a different kind of strength. And yet, towards the end, she's still the same lone woman we meet at the beginning. Someone simply just... living.

10. Renge from Non Non Biyorin

Little Renge. I adore her. She's adorable and so, so funny.

From Non Non Biyorin, which I also love to bits because I grew up in the country and the country life humor just sends me.

She's a 6 yo child that is smarter than the 8th graders, and always so serious about everything she does, even the cold corner store owner has a soft spot for her. She's like a cat. Really cute, really funny, and really mean, even unintentionally.

Ugh. I miss this show. I wish we had more seasons!

#asks #sorry that took me so long #typing this all up took forever #then I couldn’t decide in the last one but settled for Renge because she's best girl #top favorite #favorite characters

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selenesheart · 3 years

Text

dazed // d.m.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: smut, rough sex, praising kink, titty fucking, single dad!draco, single mom!reader, tension, cursing, unprotected sex, a bit of wine, a bit of spit, post hogwarts, modern au

summary: the tension between your son’s best friend’s dad and you was unbearable.

—————

“they said they’d be here by ten!” draco heard little scorpius’ voice coming from downstairs as he made his way down. draco smiled at scorpius’ enthusiasm, remembering telling him that you and your son would be there at any moment.

draco remembered when you two agreed on you bringing your 9-year-old son to the malfoy manor to spend time with scorp a few days back.

your son had told you that he wanted to visit his best friend at the beginning of the week, who was none other than scorpius malfoy, draco malfoy’s son.

after making plans with the malfoys, you mentally prepared yourself for what was gonna come. prepare for that cocky smirk and that harsh personality that you haven’t seen in at least ten years.

as your son mentioned the name “malfoy”, your memories rushed back in, all the glances, and flirty looks. you had to admit, draco malfoy was attractive, but you knew he was nowhere near good. well at least back then.

a couple of minutes later, an expensive-looking car arrived at the manor’s entrance. you and your son were inside of this car, looking rather excited, or at least your son was.

“merlin” the slytherin whispered as soon as you stepped out of the car, draco’s eyes landing on your figure, a figure of a goddess. malfoy examined every inch of your body, he couldn’t take his eyes off you, like he was being hypnotized.

but draco wasn’t the only one being hypnotized at the moment. you, too, were admiring his tall figure, from his perfect features to his arms that appeared to be noticeably muscular. he had changed.

you took a deep breath as the children greeted each other. blinking repeatedly, your vision rose to the blonde in front of you, giving him a polite smile as if you two haven’t spent more time looking at each other than usual, taking each other in.

taking a few steps, you extended your hand to greet the older malfoy, he took your hand in his rather big one, shaking it. his tall body hovering over yours, making your mind foggy.

his eyes lingered on your small, slight shaky hands, smirking at the slight size difference. your body had changed over the past few years, as well as your gorgeous face, he noticed. his face didn’t move at all as he scanned your face, it was like he was blocking any emotion from showing.

after backing away, you greeted the younger malfoy, bending over to reach his eye level. it took all of malfoy’s self-control to not let out a strangled groan, he adjusted his collar, letting out a low breath as he tried not to let his eyes wander down, which he miserably failed to do, letting himself catch a glimpse of your covered backside.

you got back at your feet, as draco took an unsteady breath.

“why don’t we all come inside the manor?” the tall man suggested as he opened the big, black door. with one last eye contact, you made your way in, the boys coming right behind you.

your breath hitched as you entered the enormous manor, mesmerized by the elegant chandelier, you examined the room, the many floors, the ridiculously long table in the guest room.

you chuckled lowly when you heard the little “woah” that escaped your son’s lips. smiling slightly at the cheeky smirk of the two malfoys. like father, like son, you supposed.

“let’s go to outside, ‘wanna show something!” scorpius spoke to your son excitedly. after checking with you if he could go to the garden, your son ran behind scorpius. giggles were heard from outside, making you smile slightly. then, it hit you; you were in the manor with a very tall, attractive man behind you. alone.

turning around slowly, you let yourself explore him with your vision. his sleeves were rolled up to his forearm, a couple of buttons undone, veiny hands in his trouser pockets. he looked so handsome, you thought.

“so— would you fancy a cuppa?” he offered, his deep voice breaking your train of thoughts. you looked up to him feeling embarrassed, he was smiling politely down at you. you returned the smile as you responded with a soft “yes, please”.

walking down to the kitchen, you felt draco's hand brush against yours, suddenly feeling hot, even when the room was freezing. you also took notice of his kind and polite personality, he wasn’t that rude 17-year-old boy that treated everyone like garbage.

“can you help me get those glasses on the top of the drawer?” he said as the two of you arrived at the large kitchen. you hummed a response while approaching the drawer that he was referring to just a couple of seconds ago, draco leaving to get a bottle of red wine.

you placed a hand on top of the counter besides the dark drawer, lifting yourself a bit to reach the said cups. your fingertips could touch them but it was no use, you huffed, the glasses were unnecessarily high.

you jumped slightly as you felt one of malfoy’s big hands on your waist, his tall figure— once again— hovering over you, reaching his arm to the top of the drawer. your backside pressed against his front, making him close his eyes slightly, trying to remain calm.

he grabbed the cups like it was nothing, using the hand that was in your waist to turn you around. draco raised the glasses to your face with a lazy smirk spread on his face, making you roll your eyes playfully, although your self-control was slowly getting out of your reach as his long fingers were spread out, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I could’ve reached that” you joked as his long fingers slowly let go of your waist, making that spot feel empty. “it seemed like it was too high for you” he responded along with a chuckle as he made his way to the kitchen counter, where the expensive wine was located. the blonde opened the bottle easily, while you sat down in the kitchen’s chair.

draco placed the glass in front of you, pouring the red wine inside of it. your eyes betrayed you as they made their way to his long fingers full of rings, unconsciously you bit your bottom lip softly, you let your imagination wander.

imagining how his fingers would feel, so deep inside of you, stretching you. how it would feel to have them in your mouth, preventing you from making any sound as he entered you from—

“is that good?” he asked innocently, breaking you from your naughty thoughts. you took a deep breath as you mumbled a “yes” to his question. you were extremely embarrassed, all things you were thinking of the man you haven’t even seen since high school.

the two of you chatted for hours and hours, drinking, enjoying each other’s company. laughing and just chatting about each other’s life in general.

────

“mum! can i stay for the night, please?” your son asked with his big doe eyes after you told him that it was time to go home. a sigh left your mouth, “in that case, i’ll come pick you up first thing tomorrow, alright?” you responded to his question, he nodded, a big smile on display.

“why don’t you stay with him?” malfoy spoke taking you off guard, turning around you saw that he was already in his pyjama pants, your breath getting heavy as you caught the sight of his exposed chest. you were about to decline his kind offer until you heard your son’s voice “yes please! stay in the manor with me!”.

“well— if there’s any room, i could stay for the night,” you sighed, “but, where am i going to stay, and besides, i have nothing to wear for bed,” you said worriedly. you furrowed your brows as you saw draco playfully roll his eyes.

“you could sleep in my room, and i’ll give you one of my shirts for you to wear” malfoy spoke softly, mentally smirking, already forming a plan in his head. your hands felt sweaty at the idea of sleeping in the same room as draco malfoy, in his clothes.

after the older man and the kids tried to convince you, you finally agreed. giving both boys a good night kiss on their foreheads, you rushed to malfoy’s room. finding no one in the room, you quickly grabbed his big white shirt and his boxers, making your way to his luxurious bathroom. you used a spell to help you clean your undergarments.

once you were done, you exited the bathroom just to find draco waiting for you in the darkroom. malfoy was mesmerized by the sight of y/n l/n wearing his see-through shirt, making your bra to be shown, causing his thoughts to go wild. all he wanted to do was rip his shirt off you and roughly massage your breasts until— he took a steady breath, containing himself.

soon enough, you were washing your face in the sink, ready to call it a night. draco stepped behind you, he extended his arm to his toothbrush in front of you. the once big room suddenly felt small.

once he was done brushing, he placed the toothbrush where it was before, causing his growing cock to make contact with your backside. you gasped as he gulped slowly, making eye contact through the bathroom mirror. hard, lust-filled eyes looking back at you.

biting your lips slightly, you turned around slowly to get a better look at his face. your vision rose to his eyes, innocent eyes looking up at him. draco had lost control. he got ahold of your cheek, bringing you up to a heated kiss. you moaned against his mouth as your fingers travelled through his hair. it all felt right.

any respectful or friendly behaviour towards each other was gone as you held tightly onto his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his skin.

the next thing you knew, the two of you were kissing, biting, licking each other like desperate animals. one of his hands travelled from your face to the end of his shirt, desperately taking it off your body, along with his black boxers.

draco groaned at the sight of your perfect body in a black set of undergarments, the sight of you looking up at him oh so innocently, the constant brushing of his erect dick against your clothed cunt. it was all driving him insane.

you arched your back off the bed, taking off your bra eagerly, breasts flowing free. malfoy wasted no time on grabbing your soft mounds, playing with them, kissing them, almost worshiping them.

“merlin— ” he breathed against your chest, the vibrations adding to the pleasure “i can’t wait to see your tits bouncing up and down” his words alone made you even wetter if that was possible. you were dripping.

you cried out as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, biting it softly. your hands were once again located on top of his head, your fingers threaded through his silky hair.

“‘m gonna fuck your tits, alright?” he asked—more like demanded— as you moaned softly at the thought of malfoy in top of you fucking your breasts. your panties started feeling uncomfortable now, you couldn’t control your arousal. you should’ve pushed him away, and tell me to stop, but you couldn’t, you didn’t want him to stop.

and now, here you were, your son’s best friend’s dad on top of you, ready to gain an orgasm from your tits, it felt like you were in heaven. he looked divine. his sweaty hair going everywhere, his dark pupils, toned body. such a beautiful sight.

he positioned himself on top of your torso, his muscular legs on either side of you. you looked at his face, waiting for his next move. he spat between your breasts, as he placed his throbbing cock in between. you grabbed each one of your boobs, bringing them together to create friction.

“that feels so good, darling argh—” draco groaned as he started moving his hips, front to back, causing his dick to leak some pre-cum across your breasts. his breathing got heavier as you stuck out your tongue to lick his red tip.

he moved faster while you moved your tits up and down, following his rhythm. it felt like he had died and gone to heaven, the feeling was unmatchable. he couldn’t wait to have your aching pussy stuffed with his dick. plus, the look in your face had him almost cumming right there and then.

but he fought the urge to cum in your tits. malfoy suddenly stopped and lowered himself to play with your folds, teasing you with his twitching tip.

“i want you inside me, please” you don’t know what took over but you pleaded like your life depend upon it. the infamous smirk was back at his face, a low chuckle leaving his pink lips.

“what do you want inside, darling?” he rubbed your desperate clit with one of his fingers, making you cry out in desperation “do still want my fingers?” he asked, causing you to furrow your brows. what was he talking about? still?

“oh don’t play dumb on me now. just a few hours ago you were wishing my fingers were inside your panties, fingering you. did you forgot about the legilimency spell, already?” he scoffed leaving you dumbfounded, he read your mind while you were thinking about him having his finger deep inside of your cunt. you gulped loudly as you looked deep into his eyes, looking for some type of sign that would tell you that he was trying to embarrass you.

but there wasn’t any.

“don’t you worry princess. you’re gonna get something even better” draco whispered as he winked down at you. your excitement level growing by the minute.

draco sucked on your sensitive breast as his hand made its way to his erect cock, gripping it while he teased your tight entrance. his other hand coming down to your thigh to expand your legs more. one of his thumb traveled through your glistening folds, smirking at how wet you were.

“i’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad, until now” he breathed against your collarbone, your hands gripping his muscular forearms tightly. his words made you let out a soft moan before you realized.

he entered you as his mouth filled with praises, praises that made you clench around him in the most delicious way possible. after years of not having sex, this was all you needed.

“fuck— you feel so good, princess” he moaned lowly, your moans getting louder as he thrust in and out of your tight hole. one of your hands was placed on top of your mouth, trying to be silent.

“these walls are pretty thick. which means we can be as loud as we want” he spoke to you as he took your hand off your mouth and started thrusting his hips even faster. his grunts were the most arousing things you would ever hear.

his thrusts got harsher, making your tits bounce up and down repeatedly. loud whines and moans were heard coming from you as you dug your nails into his soft skin. his balls slapping against your skin while he circled your clit rapidly.

“you look so pretty with my cock inside of you, sweetheart. see how i’m filling you up?” he said with a hoarse voice. you whined ‘yesyesyes’ as he lifted your leg to his waist, the new position making him hit your g-spot repeatedly.

“you’re doing so good f'me baby— shit” the attractive man swore as he felt you clench around him. he fisted the bedsheets from the pleasure. his thrusts were getting rougher, balls slapping against your skin.

“are— ” malfoy breathed “are you clo—close?” he asked before he connected his lips to your overstimulated nipples once again. he roughly massaged the other breast, slapping it once in a while. his main goal is to make you cum before him.

“yes!” you gasped when draco’s big hands suddenly held your hips, lifting them to reach even further into you. he was going at an animalistic speed, you couldn’t even keep up.

“c’mon, come for me baby, show me how good you feel” he breathed against your lips, you grabbed the back of his head, pushing him down on you, kissing him roughly while you were thrown off the edge.

the two of you moaned against each other’s mouth as you squeezed malfoy’s cock tightly, milking him down. draco kept thrusting into you, his cum spilling out too, riding you out of your high. the blonde man disconnected his lips from yours as he pulled out.

the sensation of pulling out made you both moan softly, both cums dripping out of your hole and onto the bedsheets. draco was quick to collect the dripping cum and shove it inside of you with his fingers, causing you to arch your back off the bed and moan softly at the feeling of his fingers.

after catching your breath, you opened your eyes just to see the 27-year-old man that you just fucked beside the bed, who was already looking down at you with a sweaty face. and you would be lying if you said that his next words didn’t make you wet.

“i’m not done with you, yet. get in all four for me, darling”

—————

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy one shot #adult draco #dilf draco #draco smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #harry potter series #boost

2K notes · View notes

luvdsc · 3 years

Text

haha, what if we kissed? (lol jk... unless?)

fact! you’re secretly in love with your best friend, and so is he!

pairing :: zhong chenle x reader genre :: fluff / best friend, buzzfeed worth it au word count :: 5,072 words warnings :: none playlist :: sunny afternoon (red velvet) ⋆ about love (marina) ⋆ all about you (nct u) ⋆ love (x lovers) ⋆ bella notte (f. murray abraham & arturo castro) author’s note :: i literally just finished writing the rest of this in my meetings today and am posting during my lunchbreak, but happy (1 day late) birthday, chenle sweetheart!! ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

“Hello, and welcome back to another episode of Dream: Worth It!”

Chenle shouts loudly from the driver’s seat, waving excitedly at the camera attached to the dashboard as he waits for the traffic light to turn green. You visibly flinch in your spot on the passenger's side, startled by the sudden greeting, and even Jisung jumps in the backseat, almost dropping the camcorder he was fiddling with.

Your best friend continues to give the camera a dazzling smile, paying no attention to your and Jisung’s brief glares. “Today on Worth It, thanks to a fan’s suggestion, we’ll be trying out three different spaghetti dishes at three drastically different price points to find out which one is most worth it at its price!”

“Yes,” you chime in, nodding excitedly at the camera and giving a little wave. “So if you want to see another riveting episode of Chenle and Jisung going on three dates at three drastically different price points while I third wheel again, please stay tuned!”

“Hey!”

Both the boys wildly protest, but you blatantly ignore them, checking your phone quickly before beaming at the camera again. “So here’s our first spaghetti fact! The word ‘spaghetti’ is actually the plural version of spaghetto. Spaghetto comes from the Italian word spago, which means twine or thin string.”

“Wait, that actually makes sense. Spaghetti looks like thin strings,” Chenle says, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yeah, basically every language makes sense, except for English,” you remark, setting your phone down in your lap before turning to your best friend. “So are you excited for this episode’s dish?”

“Yes! Shout out to Moony for your suggestion,” Chenle calls out, driving forward before making a right. “If anyone else has any suggestions for future videos, please feel free to comment below.”

You start to explain the first restaurant to your viewers. “Our first stop is called Legalize Marinara! It’s a small hole in the wall place in downtown LA, and fresh pasta is made everyday. We’ll be talking to the owner and chef Johnny Suh about the daily process.”

“And cut!” Jisung calls out, and you stop there, pressing the off button to end the recording. Later on, the three of you will have to work on snipping up the recordings to create a smooth transition from there to a shot of Johnny and his restaurant before jumping into your quick interview with him.

You quickly scroll through the questions you had written ahead of time to ask Johnny on your phone, mouthing the words and memorizing them. You were always the one who asked about the history of the restaurant because Chenle wasn’t as good with the more sentimental questions and preferred the light hearted ones about the food specifically, which you didn’t mind. As long as you get to try good food at the end of it, you’re one very happy, very stuffed camper. You are very much looking forward to visiting Legalize Marinara.

“—and that’s how the pasta is freshly made everyday in the morning.” Johnny finishes up, giving the camera a very charismatic smile and a wink. “We also have a special brew of coffee created by my dad, but that’s a story for another episode. I’ll bring out the spaghetti once it’s ready.”

You and Chenle thank him before going over to sit at one of the small metal tables near the entrance. The place had a sort of modern, yet retro feel to it with an eclectic mix of vintage, kitschy furniture adding pops of color here and there to the otherwise simple space with a neutral palette. The name of the restaurant flashes as a neon sign, serving as the main wall decor along with records scattered here and there on the wall as well.

Jisung stands across from the two of you, propping the large camera on his shoulder in preparation. You and Chenle both take a sip of the special coffee drinks Johnny prepared for you each on the house, pleasantly surprised by the crisp, refreshing taste your taste buds are immediately hit with. Johnny appears minutes later, a pretty plate of simple spaghetti and meatballs along with some Parmesan and garnish on top in hand.

“Here’s our most popular dish: spaghetti with meatballs!” he announces, placing the plate in front of you both carefully. “It’s a simple tomato sauce, but it’s made with organic, local ingredients that we get from the farmer’s market every morning. We get the fresh meat from the butcher down the block everyday to make the meatballs and buy the cheese from local sellers as well. We also add the secret spice mixture created by my mom to the meatballs, which gives it a distinct flavor from other restaurants. Please dig in, guys!”

You immediately swirl your fork into the plate of spaghetti. It looks and smells absolutely fantastic, and your mouth is already watering. You cannot believe that this only costs thirteen dollars. This is an absolute steal. You are just about to take a bite when—

“Wait! We didn’t do a ‘cheers’ yet!” Chenle exclaims, sticking out his fork towards you. You clink your fork against his own metal utensil, and he’s finally satisfied, retracting his arm. Finally, you take the much anticipated bite. The flavors absolutely explode in your mouth, and you’re already reaching out to take a second forkful of the delicious masterpiece.

“This is amazing,” you declare, and Chenle nods enthusiastically, spearing a meatball with his fork. Jisung briefly pans the camera over to Johnny, who shows a double thumbs up before doing finger guns and giving an exaggerated wink.

“Here, try this.” Chenle cuts a piece of the meatball and offers it to you. You reach out for it, but he pulls back, smiling widely and eyes sparkling. “Nuh uh, that’s too easy. Say ah, Y/N.”

“I—” Your cheeks grow warmer than ever, and his grin grows broader, wriggling the fork in front of you. Face burning, you move forward and take a bite. You can hear Jisung fake gagging behind the camera and very much would like to flip him the bird, but you are a professional. You’ll get him back for that later. After all, revenge is a dish best served piping hot and spicy, and you have some Carolina reapers leftover from another video that may accidentally find its way into Jisung’s ramen next time.

You and Chenle spend some more time describing the dish in between bites as Johnny pipes in here and there with some well placed dad jokes that has Jisung shaking his head behind the camera. By the end of it, you both are very happy, and you switch places with Jisung who has a chance to try out the pasta himself at last. He silently eats it before tossing a thumbs up at the camera, and you stop the recording there. After thanking Johnny once more before the three of you leave, you all pile into your car and get ready to go to the next stop.

Up next: Penne for your Thoughts.

“Can we stop here?” Jisung pipes up, peering out the window with interest. His eyes scan the surroundings, peering at the empty space and the wide stairs in front of the spiraling columns of a grand building.

You furrow your eyebrows, glancing at your friend in the backseat. “We’re still a couple blocks away from the restaurant though.”

“This looks like a good spot to film a dance,” he muses to himself before sitting up straighter. “Can we take a quick break? We’re still early, and I wanted to film a quick TikTok before the sun sets.”

You look over at Chenle, who shrugs and pulls over. He backs up into an available parking space, parallel parking smoothly, one hand gripping the back of your seat and the other on the steering wheel. “Alright, do your thing, Jisungie.”

Jisung excitedly hops out from the back. You and Chenle follow suit, locking the car behind you. Your friend is busy setting up his collapsible tripod before placing his phone on it and calling over to you, “Hey, can you stand in front, Y/N? I wanna angle this correctly and check the lighting.”

You move in front of his phone, standing several steps in front of the stairs. Jisung fiddles around with his phone for a few moments, switching up some of the settings and zoom functions before straightening up, eyes bright. “Okay, stay there to mark the spot! I’m gonna press the start button to record. Chenle, can I borrow your phone? I need to play the song for the dance.”

Chenle hands him his phone, and the familiar intro to Doja Cat’s “Say So” begins to blast on top volume. Jisung hands it back to its owner and hurriedly moves to stand in front of his own recording phone as you step aside. “I kinda also need you two in my TikTok.”

“Wait, what? I don’t know the dance,” you protest, starting to back out, but Jisung grabs your hand, pulling you into view, as Chenle bounces over with a shrug of his shoulders, never one to shy away from the camera.

“You don’t need to dance. I just need you both to uh, kiss my cheek on, um, both sides when I tap on them both. It should be the fourth time she says ‘say so’ in the song,” he stammers slightly, face turning slightly pink. He avoids making eye contact as you give him a suspicious look, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What? Why?”

“It’s part of the dance! Now get out of the shot please because the chorus is finally coming up again!” He unceremoniously shoves you out of the frame, and Chenle quickly catches you before you faceplant into the ground. You have a few choice words to yell at your friend and are about to furiously march over to him, but Chenle tightens his grip on you. “Let’s just let him finish, and we can go on. You know how he is about dancing.”

“I’m paying Renjun to put another cockroach picture as his lockscreen again,” you huff, frowning at the dancing boy. “Why didn’t you say anything about the whole kissing request anyway?”

“Eh, I’ve done it before. It’s no big deal.” Chenle shrugs, and you start to stutter, brain malfunctioning, “Wait, you did wha—”

“Oh, it’s almost our cue!” Chenle pushes you towards Jisung as he runs behind the camera to the other side, and you find yourself stumbling for a second time before catching yourself. Grumbling to yourself, you catch Chenle’s apologetic expression, and you sigh, shaking your head as you wait on the sidelines for Jisung to do the move.

And there it is.

Jisung points at his cheeks, tapping them on both sides, and you and Chenle jump into the frame. You lean forward, pressing your lips softly against— wait.

Eyes widening, you jump back in shock, mouth popping open, and the same reaction comes from your best friend when you two realize that you just kissed each other. On the lips.

Crouched on the ground, Jisung looks rather smug after quickly dropping down mid-dance and orchestrating the whole incident. He quickly stands up, striding towards the camera and ending the recording, before efficiently packing up the equipment and walking back to the car without another word.

“Did we just—” you splutter, unable to continue your sentence, as your face grows increasingly warm. Chenle refuses to make eye contact with you, the darkening blush spreading across his face like wildfire. The two of you both direct your disbelief at the same target, rushing over to the car which he boredly stands next to, waiting for Chenle to unlock it.

“Jisung!” You both shout his name, and he just stares at you both, a small grin across his face that he struggles to hide. “What?”

“‘What?’ That’s it? What was that?! Why did you do that?” you exclaim, waving your arms around. Chenle is rendered speechless, unable to say anything after the quick outburst of his other best friend’s name.

“I was tired of listening to Che—mmph!” Jisung is abruptly cut off as Chenle throws his hand over his friend’s mouth, effectively interrupting whatever he was about to say. The two of them silently look at each other, maintaining some sort of telepathic stare that’s probably discussed in the universal book of the bro code. You’ve seen Jaemin and Jeno or Renjun and Donghyuck share the same look before and never really understood it. To be honest, it kind of reminds you of that one moment where the main characters of a chick flick gaze into each others’ eyes and then kiss.

The sound of a text notification cuts off your train of thought and breaks the intense stare down going between the two boys, and you check your phone, eyes widening. “Oh my god, we’re going to be late if we don’t go now! Taeyong just texted me to confirm if we’re coming.”

The three of you hurry into the car, buckling up in your seats. Your hand lightly grazes Chenle’s amidst the rush, and you freeze. You look up, heat spreading across your face, as Chenle meets your gaze, turning redder than spaghetti sauce.

“Alright, you can continue this moment at the restaurant,” Jisung says loudly, jolting the two of you out of your stupor. You quickly retract your hand, mumbling a quick apology, and look away, cheeks still growing warmer than ever. Chenle awkwardly clears his throat and starts the car up, driving to your second stop on the map.

Penne for your Thoughts is simply lovely. It reminds you of a place you would see on the shiny cover of Architecture Digest: a hot spot where all those social influencers would take aesthetic snapshots and post to their Instagrams. The restaurant is quaint and spacious: a large area filled with lots of greenery, hanging plants in simple white ceramic pots, white painted brick walls, and wooden tables with soft cushions on each seat. Once you wrap up the interview with Taeyong, you are seated next to an open window with a great view of a pretty koi pond in the back.

“We serve Korean fusion style food here, and our spaghetti has a freshly made tomato sauce that includes chopped kimchi infused in it. We found that using garlic marinated pork belly makes a more flavorful meatball, which we char slightly, paying homage to the wonderful KBBQ samgyeopsal. We also found that a raw egg yolk on top adds a richness to the pasta, which is similar to a bowl of bibimbap. And there’s some grated Parmesan and mozzarella on top.” Taeyong sets the plate of gorgeous spaghetti in front of you and Chenle with a shy smile. “I hope you both enjoy it.”

You don’t know how else to describe the dish, except that it is beautiful (Just like the restaurant owner, like have you seen his face? Lee Taeyong is the true modern day Adonis, but you digress). You swear you saw Chenle wipe a tear from his face out of the corner of your eye. Practically salivating, you impatiently wait for Jisung to take a few close up videos and pictures of the dish before you immediately dig in.

Fork awkwardly hovering in the air, you pause, turning to Chenle. “Uh, cheers?”

His own loaded fork is halfway to his mouth when he halts. “Oh! Right. Yes. Um, cheers, Y/N.”

The two of you stiffly tap your forks against each other before facing forward again and finally taking the much desired bite. The flavors are bursting like fireworks, and if someone told you that you had died and gone to heaven, you would believe them because there’s no other word to explain the taste other than heavenly. Dante had many circles leading to the center of hell. If you are to apply the same concept to heaven, Legalize Marinara would be the first circle you enter once you go past the pearly gates, and Penne for your Thoughts would most definitely be the second.

The clinking of Chenle’s fork against the plate breaks you from your thoughts, and your good mood falters when you remember the incident again. You plaster a quick smile as you begin to describe the dish to the camera. Chenle chimes in with a wide smile of his own that looks a little too forced, but the only one who seems to notice is you.

Once the recording is wrapped up, Chenle drops you off at your apartment building for you to change into a more dressier attire for the last stop. He and Jisung will change at their place before coming back to pick you up for dinner.

Up next: Terrazza San Valentino.

The place is positively breathtaking. It is an upscale restaurant with open seating on a terrace, leading to a beautiful view of the ocean. Wisteria vines and bright flowers weave their way through the twisting low iron fences encompassing the space as they climb the sides of the building. You have the perfect seat to witness the picturesque sunset over the rippling waters. A bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon had been brought out and now rests on the covered table, uncorked and already poured out into two glasses. It very much reminds you of the beautiful restaurants you visited along the Amalfi Coast, specifically Il Capitano in Positano. You only hope that the food here will be just as amazing as the pasta you ordered there.

You just wish your company was a little better. The atmosphere felt more awkward than the time your mom had set you up on a blind date with her coworker’s son. You had to text Chenle for help that time, and he came to your rescue, helping you escape after pretending to be your long lost son. Obviously, your date wasn’t dumb enough to believe that, but he did believe that you were completely off your rockers and immediately took off after that.

Sneaking a glance at your best friend, you sigh when you realize that he refuses to look your way. You carefully tuck the skirt of your wine red dress under your crossed legs. The sweetheart neckline emphasizes the simple gold necklace you have on, and the dress tapers off at your waist, accentuating your figure perfectly. You paired the outfit with a matching lipstick, a simple black clutch, and some elegant black heels with ribbons that loop around your ankles into a pretty bow.

In other words, you look stunning, and Chenle’s palms are growing sweaty. He undos the first few buttons of his white dress shirt, desperately wanting to take off his tailored suit jacket, but his attire would look much too casual without it. He avoids eye contact with you and remains silent, growing even more flustered by the second, and looks at Jisung helplessly.

Of course, his other best friend proves to be useless again (Disappointing, but not surprising). Jisung simply wriggles his eyebrows at him, eyes darting from you to Chenle, before zooming into his face at a very unflattering angle. Chenle throws him a dirty look, and Jisung merely sticks out his tongue in response. However, they immediately smoothen their expressions into much more pleasant ones when Jaehyun comes out with the plate of food on a small cart.

“This is our play on spaghetti.” He gives you a dimpled smile, and you briefly wonder if the customers rave about this restaurant because of the food or the chef. Perhaps it is a combination of both.

He continued to explain the dish, setting it down in front of you and Chenle. “We use strangozzi that is made fresh every morning. We infuse sun dried tomatoes that we dried ourselves into the olive oil for a minimum of thirty days. The pasta is cooked for sixty seconds, while we slightly sauté grated truffle in the oil in a pan. Once the pasta is ready, we transfer it to the truffle pan and cook it for another minute, making sure to coat the pasta in the sauce. And then we grate some Parmesan and truffles right on top at the table.”

Jaehyun pulls out the expensive mushroom, generously grating thin slices on top of the glistening strands of pasta. The smell is incredible, and your eyes are already hyper fixated on the dish in front of you. He puts down the mushroom and grater, picking up the second grater and the cheese from the cart before shredding the cheese perfectly.

When he finishes, Jaehyun places them back on the cart and smiles at you both charmingly once more. “I hope you enjoy your meal. If you need anything else, please feel free to ask.”

You thank him before he leaves, and Jisung takes all the necessary shots before giving the okay to start eating. You and Chenle offer up some comments about the elegance of the dish, describing its appearance and finally twirling some on the end of your fork. You murmur a quiet “cheers” as the two of you clink your glasses of wine together and take a sip before having the first bite.

The amount of money you have to pay to have a truffle dish is absolutely worth it. The taste is simply indescribable, and you truly have no words. You are blown away by the amount of flavor that can be created with just a few ingredients, and your taste buds are singing. Wide eyed, you turn to look at Chenle, who has the same astonished expression on his face, already staring back at you in complete surprise.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and your best friend agrees with you. “Holy shit indeed.”

You immediately go for another bite, and Chenle quickly follows suit. “This is— this is incredible. I don’t know how to describe it, except, except, wow. I can’t stop eating it, and the sun dried tomatoes, olive oil, fresh pasta al dente, and truffles just work so well together. It’s like a symphony in my mouth.”

“I agree,” Chenle nods enthusiastically, swiping another forkful of the yummy goodness. “This has to be one of the best dishes of the entire season.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” You spear a slice of the truffle with the pasta, and the ensuing bite is simply perfect and delectable. “I would come back here every single week if my bank account would let me.”

The stifled atmosphere between the two of you suddenly becomes relaxed at that point, the thick tension dissipating with food never failing to act as the perfect ice breaker and buffer simultaneously. For now, you can pretend the kiss didn’t happen and almost forget it (key word: almost).

“There’s a very popular fan suggestion,” Jisung pipes up, looking at the comment section of the previous video where you and Chenle announced your current recording’s star dish. “It got over twenty thousand likes and five hundred responses.”

“What is it?” You pause in eating, fork poised in the air, as you look over to your friend behind the camera. Chenle pays no attention, continuing to take another bite.

“Recreate the Lady and the Tramp moment.”

Your jaw drops, and your eyes grow round. Practically scandalized, your voice goes an octave higher. “You mean the kissing scene?!”

At the mention of kissing, Chenle chokes on a noodle, spluttering and nearly hacking up a lung, and you quickly reach over and firmly pat him on the back repeatedly until he stops coughing with a weak “thanks.”

“What? This is a food show! Why do they want us to kiss?” your best friend wheezes, and you pass him a glass of water. He grabs it from your outstretched hand gratefully and takes a large gulp.

“I don’t know, fan service? Anyway, it’s good for the views!” Jisung gives you a thumbs up, and you frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why don’t you do it with Chenle then?”

“It specifically says you and Chenle,” he informs smugly with a smirk, and you glower at him, much to his amusement.

“Well, if it’s for the fans…” Chenle trails off, a faint blush beginning to make its appearance on his face. He hesitantly pulls out one strand of the pasta, picking up one end on his fork.

You can’t believe this. Yet, you slowly reach out for the other end of the strand with your fork, twirling it onto the metal prongs securely. You move to take your end of the noodle, while Chenle does the same, both of you actively avoiding eye contact.

“Oh c’mon, at least make it a little more romantic than that. Jeno and Jaemin have more chemistry than you two right now,” Jisung complains, and you would very much like to chuck the half full bottle of wine at his big, annoying head (Chenle also has similar thoughts).

Taking a deep breath, you finally place the noodle’s end in your mouth. Cheeks burning, you can feel your heart rate already skyrocketing at the mere thought of kissing your best friend again. You know you’ll freeze up if you look at him, so you do your best to focus your gaze on the center of the noodle strand. You’ll have some time before the two of you meet in the middle, right?

Wrong.

It comes much too soon, and your palms are growing sweaty as your heart races in your chest at a breakneck speed. Your lips are mere millimeters away from his, and you pause. You can’t hear anything, but the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing to your cheeks, and you finally find the courage to peek up at your best friend. You find him already gazing at you, a soft expression on his face. His eyes dart down to your lips before meeting your eyes once more, and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for you, that he won’t do anything unless you want it too, that it’s okay if you don’t.

But you do.

So you muster up all the courage you possibly can and close the distance, carefully pressing your lips against his for a tender kiss before biting off the noodle. When you pull back, you finally notice the awestruck expression written all over Chenle’s face. He lets out a small laugh of disbelief before he positively beams, bouncing in his seat, and you sport a matching smile, albeit a little bashful.

“Uh, anyway, who left that comment? We should probably give them a mention,” you say, clearing your throat and hoping the heat subsides in your cheeks soon. Chenle continues to grin like the Cheshire Cat and secretly grabs your hand underneath the tablecloth, intertwining your fingers with his. You can feel your face exponentially growing warm once again, but you still send a pleased smile to your best friend.

“Uh…” Jisung awkwardly laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “��Insert goofy’s chuckle.’”

At Jisung’s answer, you freeze up entirely in your position before immediately turning and locking eyes with Chenle in complete horror, the both of you instantly coming to the same, dreadful realization.

“HYUCK?!”

One new notification: Dream: Worth It uploaded a new video!

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

oh my god you guys actually did it. your relationship started all thanks to ME 🙆🏻 you’re welcome btw 😘 I take payment in the form of your first born’s name

notanimpasta replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle ok calm down rumpelstiltskin

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta what a perfect nickname for him. He’s an ugly little greedy man

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ jisung pwark LMAOOOO (and congrats, chenle and y/n!)

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ jisung pwark what tf no one asked???

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark wait hold on you were supposed to edit that end part out????

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta i left it for the views ☺️

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark people watch for the food tho!!! 🙂

nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ replied: @ big head king I watched it for the kiss. Love is so beautiful 🥰💓💞🥺🥺💕💛💟✨💖

jenojam replied: @ big head king I had watched it for the food! but congratulations, y/n and chenle :)

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ big head king i watched it because ron jeon said you mentioned me

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle IT’S RENJUN!!!!!! 🤬🤬

mork lee rawr xD replied: hahaha I watch for the food~

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ mork lee rawr xD Thank you Mark, very cool!

winwin in past tense is wonwon!!! commented:

whoop whoop congrats lele 🥳🥳

rapperpunzel commented:

the pasta looks good 🍝

johnny’s communication center commented:

Thanks for stopping by! Come back for the couple’s special discount anytime 😉

baa baa yang sheep commented:

oh my god finally!!!

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ baa baa yang sheep you owe me $50 I was right, it happened before the season finale

baa baa yang sheep replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck suddenly i’m jared, 19

xiao dejasmine commented:

hahahaha cute ! 😁😁

ty track commented:

Thank you y/n and chenle for visiting ~~ congrats on your relationship !!! -TY

junguwu (◕‿◕✿) commented:

YAAAAAS CHENLE SWEETIE 😘😘😘

jisung pwark commented:

check out my latest tiktok video @ jisungpwark to see their actual first kiss!!! and don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe ☺️

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark STOP USING US AS CLICKBAIT

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta no ❤️

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta also red is sus

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark so when are you gonna do the best friend kissing challenge huh 👀

jisung pwark replied: @ big head king SHUT UP CHENLE

honeyfairy replied: @ jisung pwark 😳😳

gu ren gui god commented:

wow~ very cute, chenle! my angel 😊

FIGHTING HAEYADWAE commented:

YOOOOO CONGRATS, MAN 🤩🤪🤪

prince jae commented:

thank you guys for coming by! please stop by next year on your anniversary free of charge (:

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ prince jae omg mark and I will be there for sure ❤️

showmethemonet replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle my new boyfriend and I will be there too ☺️

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet I’m sorry, I was wrong, pls don’t leave me for bts jin even though i am so much more handsomer and talented than him 😌

apado gwenchana god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

1K notes · View notes

scarletssoverkill · 3 years

Text

grocery shopping - james potter x reader

a/n: im in the car on the way to go grocery shopping right now with my parents and wanted to make this :) im getting a little dizzy ngl but that’s fine

another a/n: i’m in the store now and i’m walking while typing so sorry if there’s any mistakes lol

warning: i guess there's some suggestive stuff but not much

another modern au

you were in the passenger seat of the car looking out the window listening to the music playing on the radio while james was on the drivers seat well driving.

the both of you were on your way to a new grocery store that sirius told you about. it’s that time of the week where you and james do your weekly grocery shopping and you decided that you wanted to see the new store that sirius was raving to you about when you talked to him on the phone.

“y/n! you and james have to go see this new grocery store that moony and i went to the other day! it’s huge and has a lot of stuff in it!” sirius said on the phone

“oh! where is it then? maybe james and i could go there on our next grocery run” you replied

“it’s pretty far from where you and james live so you’d probably need to drive there… i’ll message you the directions” sirius said as he put your call on speaker so that he could search for the store on his browser and send it to you

you and sirius talked all about how much sirius had enjoyed going to that store with remus. sirius had mentioned that there’s a huge selection of chocolates and he had to stop remus from getting them all. since you were on speaker, remus had joined in the conversation and talked about how he was not trying to get all the chocolates and sirius was arguing that he was wrong and the he was really trying to get them all. that went on for a couple of minutes then you ended the call.

now you and james were on your way to the store to see why sirius and remus had enjoyed that place so much.

the both of you had reached your destination and you saw that there was a lot of people.

“maybe you could go in already while i look for somewhere to park” james suggested

“okay just call me when you get in! i’ll see you later!” you replied

you walked in the store with a shocked look on your face. the place was huge! the aisles were wide and there were a lot of items on different racks that almost reached the ceiling. this place was amazing, you’re definitely coming back there the next time you need to.

you were walking towards the aisle that had towels on them and were surprised on what was embroidered on them. you were admiring the towels when suddenly you felt your phone vibrate.

“love, i just parked and i’m on my way in, where are you?” james asked as he walked in through the doors grabbing a cart

“i’m in the towel aisle and you’ll never believe what’s on it!” you said excitedly

“okay, I’m almost there! i’ll see you in a minute” james said then hanging up the phone, he saw you right next to a rack of red towels, he started walking towards you.

“james! james! come here look at what’s on this towel!” you said as you pushed the towel on his face

“well how can i see it when you put it on my face like that?” james replied

“look! it’s a red towel with a gold stag embroidered on it! it’s you!” you said happily

“merlin, you’re right! put it in the cart!” james said as you hurriedly put the stag towel in the cart that james had brought with him, he knew that you weren't going to get a cart so he took one when he walked in the store.

you and james continued looking through the different aisles and took what you needed, the both of you continued to grab on different items and putting them in your cart, not even noticing that everything was piling up and it was getting full. james heard something fall and had noticed that your cart was already full.

"love, i think we're going to need another cart or maybe even a bigger one..." james said

"why is that?" you asked not even looking at the cart and just grabbing more items that you saw on the racks

"our cart is filled to the brim!" he said

"merlin, that's a lot of stuff we got there! can we even afford all of that?! maybe we should start getting rid of some stuff and put them back" you said

"hmm, well, alright... but we're keeping the stag towel" james said

"of course we're keeping that it could be useful" you said as you started getting rid of items that you don't even need and forgot that you even put them in the cart

"what are you suggesting, love?" james said with a cheeky grin on his face

"get your mind out of the gutter, james! you know what i meant" you replied

"actually, i don't! can you tell me?" james smirked

"oh shut up you stag!" you said

"hey! you love this stag!" he said

"unfortunately" you jokingly said walking away from him planning to return the items on the racks where they came from

"unfortunately?! hey! come back here!" he said as he quickly pushed the cart on his way to you

you started ignoring james for fun and he decided to make a scene trying to catch your attention. little did the both of you know but people were starting to notice and get annoyed by james' antics.

"excuse me but can the both of you please keep that silly game of yours in the bedroom?!" someone said to both you and james

"oh sorry..." james apologized to the person and he saw you giggling at him

you and james walked away to go line up at the checkout counter and you were still laughing at the incident that happened not too long ago

"what are you laughing at?!" james asked

"you and your crazy antics!" you replied while keeping in your laughs

"that was so embarrassing did you see the look on that person's face, they were so mad!" james said

"james, you've embarrassed yourself a lot back in hogwarts, you should be fine!" you said in attempt to comfort him

"i guess you're right, maybe we should wait a while before we go back here, just to make sure people forget about that" james said

"okay fine... i'm going to miss this place for a while..." you said

"it's literally our first time coming here, you shouldn't miss it too much" he said

"yeah, but the selection of items that they have, james!" you said

"i'll make it up to you!" james said

"alright, just so you know i'll hold you to that, potter!" you said already knowing what you want james to do for you

"of course, love" james said

you and james were now the ones at the checkout counter, the both of you waited for all the items to be scanned, while waiting someone tapped you on the shoulder

"glad the both of you had stopped your antics from a while ago!" the stranger said, it was a different person from the one that scolded you both a while ago

the both of you just looked at the person with shocked expressions on your faces that then changed to shy smiles. james hurriedly paid the items and carried some of the bags while you got the remaining ones.

you had left the store in a hurry a little bit embarrassed that another person had said something about the incident that had happened before. you and james got in the car and left in a rush not wanting to see if anyone was looking at you both.

"yeah we're definitely not coming back there" you said

"at least we got the stag towel, am i right?" james said

"oh shut up" you said with a smile

you and james had gone back home with your groceries and the thought of the embarrassing moment you shared with him was long gone, well not until sirius called.

"y/n! one of our old friends from hogwarts messaged me a while ago saying that they saw you and james get scolded about stuff you do in the bedroom? what is that all about?!" sirius asked curious on what had gone down

"what?!" you asked with a shocked look on your face, james had the same expression on his face hearing what sirius had told you

the end lol <3

another note: yeah idk what this was i just wanted to go grocery shopping with james thanks for reading it if you did i hope you enjoyed it somehow :)) i also didn't proofread this bc im too lazy hahaha

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter #sorry again if it's bad

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Eighteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: a short update while i try to find my writing rhythm again :))

***

Nesta hasn’t danced in over ten years—yet her body still remembers how to move fluidly and create shapes as if she never stopped. Pole dancing is different, of course: most of it takes place in the air, and she doesn’t have the right muscles developed to support her weight that well. Damn, she should really ask Cassian for help if she wants to keep doing this.

Still, Emerie and Gwyn are gaping by the time Nesta lands on the floor after trying out a basic spin.

She cracks her neck. “What?” she says at their stares.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Emerie demands.

She shrugs indifferently. “Eight years of ballet. Push-up challenges with Cassian.”

The instructor, an overly energetic Australian woman, comes up just then and claps Nesta on the shoulder, making her jump. “That was beautiful,” she praises. “Really, you have the balance of a cat. What’s your name again?”

Nesta introduces herself obediently, and Gwyn and Emerie follow.

The instructor nods. “In that case, Nesta, you keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t worry about your upper body strength yet, it’ll come around with time. You, the redhead,” she addresses Gwyn.

Gwyn straightens.

“I’ve never seen someone with your height and grace at the same time,” the instructor says. Gwyn beams with pride. “Unfortunately,” she continues, “I’ve also never seen someone so prone to hurting themselves on the pole.” Gwyn hangs her head.

“And the pretty girl.” She turns to Emerie last, who looks like she already knows what she’s about to hear. “Well, we can’t all be naturals.” The instructor grins broadly. “Feel free to keep using the poles after class is over.” She nods to their group and moves on to some other students.

Emerie sticks her tongue out and groans. “My tights keep giving me wedgies on the pole.”

“This was your idea,” Nesta reminds her as she reaches for her water bottle.

“Yet you’re the only one reaping the benefits,” Gwyn grumbles. “You never told us you had the body of a dancer and the balance of a gazelle.”

“Cat,” Emerie corrects.

“Guys,” Nesta says firmly. “This class is important for all of us. We won’t look this good,” she gestures to all their bodies, “forever. Gwyn is already pushing thirty.”

Gwyn’s jaw drops. “I’m turning twenty-seven, not getting menopause.”

“Same thing,” Emerie mutters. Gwyn shoves her hard and goes to pack her gym bag, leaving Emerie dramatically rubbing her shoulder. Nesta follows after Gwyn while the rest of the class begins gathering their things, too.

“How’re you feeling?” she mutters lowly as Gwyn packs. They haven’t brought up the conversation in Gwyn’s car since it took place, but Gwyn seems returned to her usual self now, if not even sunnier.

Gwyn’s lips twitch up as she glances sidelong at Nesta. “Perfect,” she says smoothly. “I can’t even remember what I was so upset about.”

Nesta is glad, even though she knows the nightmare isn’t gone. Knows that anytime from the next hour to the next year, it could reappear in full force and drag Gwyn down again. But hopefully it won’t hit as hard as it did before, now that Gwyn has her.

After class, they all pile up in Emerie’s car, a handed-down hunk of metal which Emerie insists on calling “vintage”. Gwyn sticks her head between the driver and passenger seat from the back and wrinkles her nose. “Get me home quick, it smells like a dead banana back here.”

“Oh, is that where I left it?” Emerie starts to turn around, but Nesta stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “I need a shower and a nap,” she pleads. “Let’s go.”

Emerie begrudgingly assents, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it. Nothing happens.

Frowning, she turns it again, but the engine doesn’t so much as choke. She slaps the dashboard like it’ll bring her car to life.

“Amazing,” Nesta mutters.

***

Cassian has imagined more times than he’d like to admit what it would be like when Nesta finally introduced him to her friends, but he never imagined this.

Three tired and hungry girls sit in his truck, alternating between arguing and laughing with each other. He can’t keep up with all of their personalities at once, so he just hones in on Nesta while he drives. Nesta, who Cassian has never seen so carefree or witty with people other than himself before. It both fascinates him and freaks him out, the realization that there’s so much to Nesta he doesn’t know yet. It gives him all the more excuse to spend the next several years getting to know her.

“Don’t tell me what to do with my car,” the dark-haired girl, Emerie, is snapping from the backseat. “Mr. Madani,” she abruptly says, sticking her head forward to look him in the face. Cassian nearly jumps. “Do you know how to change a car battery?”

Nesta shoves Emerie’s face back through the gap between seats from where she sits in the front. “You don’t need a battery change, you need a lifestyle change,” she says. “And don’t call my boyfriend by his last name, he’s not a middle-aged dad.”

Cassian bites back a laugh at that.

“Oh, but if I’m twenty-seven, I’m on the brink of menopause,” Gwyneth speaks up.

“Really?” Cassian says, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror for the first time all drive. “You’re the same age as me?”

He remembers what Nesta told him about Gwyn’s discomfort around men, so he tries to keep his tone casual, distant. If he scares Nesta’s friend away, he’ll never forgive himself.

Gwyn looks stunned to be directly addressed by him, seeming to lose all her sass. “Uh...my birthday’s in a few days,” she says, suddenly awkward.

“That’s right,” Emerie interjects eagerly. “We’re having a rager.”

“We’re having a sleepover,” Nesta corrects. She throws Cassian an exasperated look. “Drive faster, will you? I can’t share a car with these girls any longer.”

“Don’t be fucking rude.” Gwyn flicks a hair tie at Nesta, making her cry out.

Cassian does not understand this dynamic at all, so he shuts up and does as he’s told.

After Gwyn and Emerie have been safely dropped off, Cassian throws his keys into the bowl at the cabin entrance and tosses off his shoes. “I think I finally know what it’s like to be you,” he tells Nesta as they meet the warmth of the house.

“What do you mean?” She unzips her windbreaker, revealing the form-fitting athleticwear beneath. God, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to look at her since he picked her up.

He redirects his eyes to her face. “You know,” he says. “On the outside looking in. I feel drained.”

Her lips quirk up as she hangs up her jacket. “That scared of a couple of girls, huh?”

“They’re your friends. I don’t know what else I expected.” He follows Nesta deeper into the living room, kicking at the ground. “So…” he trails casually. “How was class?”

Nesta responds by rolling her eyes. “I was wondering how long you’d take to crack.”

“What do you mean?” he says, indignant.

“I mean…” She steps up to him and takes his hands, dragging them up her waist to settle on the bare skin beneath her black crop top. “You haven’t said a word about pole-dancing since I told you I was starting it. One would almost think it didn’t affect you at all, and yet,” she tilts her head, “I get the feeling you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Especially at night, when you’re alone.”

Cassian’s breath goes thin. She knows him too well.

“Cunning witch,” he breathes. Nesta’s smile is slow and winning, which he takes as invitation to slip his hands around her back and pull her in. Her chest is pressed flush against his.

She stares at his mouth, the place she always stares when her mind is five steps ahead of reality. Like she’s already imagining how he’ll take her. “Dreaming about a private performance, are you?”

“Hopefully not right now,” a low voice says from above them.

Nesta jumps, spinning around in Cassian’s arms, but Cassian just closes his eyes and sighs. He opens them to find Azriel sitting in the reading nook that overlooks the living room, various work reports scattered about him.

“Have you been there this whole time?” Nesta demands.

“Unfortunately,” Azriel says at the same time Cassian grumbles, “Of course he has.” Remaining unnoticed is all his brother is good for.

Nesta sighs and rubs her eyes, the mood effectively killed. “I need a break.”

Cassian considers going up to Az and pushing him over the second floor railing as Nesta wiggles out of his arms and heads for the stairs. “And a back massage,” she calls over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right there,” Cassian tells her. But he waits to hear their bedroom door click shut before he also goes upstairs, not towards Nesta but to the reading nook.

“Hey, bro?” He tries to sound lighthearted as he approaches Az. “Do you mind not cockblocking me in my own house?”

Az doesn’t look up from the report he’s reading, flipping a page. “It’s rude to be horny in public spaces.”

“My house is not a public space,” Cassian growls, struggling to keep his temper. “Before you moved in, it was a very, very private space.” For him and Nesta alone, he doesn’t add.

Azriel finally looks up, question in his eyes. “So what?” he says. “You want me to leave?”

Never, is the automatic assurance that nearly comes out of Cassian’s mouth. Of course he’d never want his brother gone, especially when he’s clearly going through… something. But he bites down on the word and takes a seat in the chair across from Az. “I want to know how long you’re planning on staying. For real. You can run from your problems as much as you want, but that doesn’t mean I can provide you with a hiding place forever.”

“Wow.” Azriel’s eyes widen in mock-disbelief and he clasps a hand to his chest. “So cold, brother. I think you caught some of your girlfriend’s iciness.”

Cassian narrows his eyes seriously at Az. “Or maybe I’m being the only adult here.” Cassian now has responsibilities to a person who isn’t part of his traditional inner circle. A person he can see himself making long-term plans with, a person he plans on keeping around. It changes the course of his future in a way that the rest of his family probably haven’t realized yet.

Though maybe Azriel does realize it, because he looks away and murmurs, “No need to rub it in.”

For the thousandth time that month, Cassian wonders what caused Azriel to run away from Velaris. It’s a secret Az refuses to share with even him.

“I’m trying,” Azriel says. His words are slow, unsure. “I’m trying to create space between me and that city, but I’m going to need more time. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take until I can go back. But if you can’t keep me here, I’ll find someplace else to stay.” He shrugs. “It’s not that hard.”

Cassian exhales, feeling sympathy twist deep in his chest for his best friend—and he doesn’t even know what the sympathy is for. “Then take your time,” he says sincerely. “Stay here forever if you want. We can Photoshop you into all our pictures. But don’t think I’m gonna make it easy on you,” he warns.

“You already don’t make it easy on me,” Az mutters. “I can hear you and Nesta fucking all the time.”

“First, don’t ever talk about Nesta and fucking in the same sentence ever again.”

Az blinks in surprise, likely remembering the way they would talk about their hookups before Nesta came into the picture. “Damn, she’s got you bad.”

“Second,” Cassian continues, “I will not hesitate to make you sleep outside if you get on my or Nesta’s nerves.”

“With that attitude, I’ll be out of here by next week,” Az snorts. He crosses his feet and picks up his report again, clearly done with this conversation.

Seeing no hope in rubbing the point in further, Cassian leaves Azriel to his work.

***

Nesta is stripped down to her underwear and getting ready to shower when she notices a missed call from Elain on her phone.

She hesitates at her sister’s name on the screen, wondering what could possibly have encouraged Elain to call while Nesta was at dance class. What happened to the times that Nesta could go weeks without a single person checking up on her?

Looking toward the bedroom door as if Cassian will come in and save her from having to call Elain back, she waits a solid minute before giving up.

Elain picks up on the first ring. “I’m surprised you called back,” she greets.

“I’m full of surprises these days.” Nesta settles onto the bed. “What did you want?” She doubts Elain called just for a check-in, not with the stagnant bitterness that’s been between them lately.

“To have a normal conversation with my sister for once.”

Nesta tries not to roll her eyes all the way back into her head, even though no one is around to see her. “Go on and have it then.”

“I heard from Rhys that Azriel moved into Cassian’s place,” Elain says in her honey-sweet voice. “I’ve been meaning to ask how that’s going for you.”

Nesta’s brow furrows at that voice, the one that Elain uses whenever she wants to give her best first impression—or wants to pry something out of someone. “It’s going fine,” she says flatly. “Az and I get along great.”

That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but…

“You’re calling him Az now?” Nesta can hear the way Elain tries to tamp down on her curiosity, but she’s never been as good at affecting apathy as Nesta is.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Why? Do you miss him?”

Elain nearly chokes over the line. “Why—why would you say that?”

“I thought you guys were friendly,” Nesta says, leaning back into the pillows. “Doesn’t everyone miss him back in Velaris?”

“Oh.” The relief in Elain’s voice is palpable, piquing Nesta’s curiosity. “Yeah, we miss him.” She clears her throat. “He left without telling anybody.”

Nesta fiddles with the band of her panties. “You don’t know why he left either?”

Elain is silent for several moments. “No.” Her answer is quiet, truthful. “I don’t know.�� She adds, “Keep an eye on him, will you? I would do it myself, but I’ve been iced out.”

Nesta finds this very suspicious. She can’t bring herself to be interested enough to keep snooping, however, not as the door creaks open and Cassian enters the room. “Will do,” she promises Elain, and makes a quick goodbye. When she hangs up, Cassian asks, “Who was it?”

“Elain.” Nesta frowns at her phone. She wonders if someone like Cassian would be better at reading between the lines of the strange conversation she just had. Maybe he could put his finger on the mysterious relationship between her sister and his brother. But since there are no creeks nearby for Azriel to be shoved into, and it isn’t any of Nesta’s business either way, she decides to give him and Elain time to sort their own shit out.

“What did she want?”

Nesta refocuses on Cassian, who leans against the door appreciating her half-naked form stretched out before him. Without words, she holds her arms open.

He shoves off the door and approaches her on the bed, letting her envelop him into a hug. It isn’t the warmest or most comforting hug, and her arms are stiff as stone, but he melts into her either way. There’s a weariness in his broad shoulders that spikes concern in her.

When Cassian pulls away, she traps his face in her hands and scans it closely for answers. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “You fell asleep early during the last two movies we watched and you’re half-asleep now.”

“What are you talking about?” He throws his signature smile her way, but it lacks alertness. “Do I look like there’s anything wrong with me?”

“You tell me.” Nesta shifts so she can slide her hand over the smooth plane of his back, resting her palm on the warm spot between his shoulder blades. It’s her best imitation of a soothing gesture, and it makes Cassian’s lips quirk up lightly.

He hangs his head and sighs. “Is it possible to have growing pains at my age?”

Nesta is confused. “Like, physically?”

“No,” he says. “Just… growing up.”

“I don’t think we ever stop growing up,” she answers honestly. Maybe she’s biased because a part of her is still trapped in that childlike state, and she has more growing to do than most people. “I think it hurts a little every time we have to shift and become someone older. What’s hurting you now?”

Her hand slides up to the nape of Cassian’s neck, gently massaging the muscles there. His head droops even more under her touch. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that when I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he huffs. But he doesn’t look very inclined to argue.

Nesta squeezes the back of his neck. “I can be the stable one, too, you know. I can take care of you.” She should’ve defeated this misconception sooner.

“That’s not what I meant,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “I meant that I promised you a massage.”

Oh. She nearly forgot about that. “If you tell me what growing pains you’re having, I’ll let you join me in the shower,” she promises. “You can do whatever you want there.”

He looks up at that, dragging his gaze over her mostly-bare figure, and Nesta knows she’s won. “Tell me,” she demands one final time.

Cassian inspects her face, likely deciding how much he should reveal or not. “I’ve been thinking about the future,” he finally says. “It was never something I cared much about before, but now it keeps me up at night.”

Nesta is slow to realize—he’s talking about their future. “You really never thought about the future before?” she asks. At one point in time, Nesta had her life planned out to the age of forty. Her plans hadn’t included this, though.

Cassian shakes his head. “There was nothing for me to think about.”

She runs soothing fingers across his scalp, her heart rate unexpectedly picking up a beat. “And what do you think about now?”

Hazel eyes meet hers with wariness. “Stupid stuff,” he says. “Cars, taxes, insurance.”

At the look on her face, he pulls away from the hand that’s gone still on his neck. “Okay, let’s get you in the shower before I scare you away for good.”

Nesta feels herself being scooped into Cassian’s arms, but she doesn’t quite register it. It’s not until they’re in the bathroom that she remembers words. “I’m not scared,” she says from the cradle of his arms. “I was just surprised.”

Regaining her senses, she squirms until Cassian puts her down on the floor. She straightens. “I’ve never... pondered on the small things like that.”

Except they aren’t really small or stupid, are they? They’re big, inevitable facets of sharing a life with someone. She clears her throat. “The way we live now is already so nice. I guess I forgot things won’t be like this forever.”

Which isn’t the most assuring thing to say from the way Cassian’s face becomes carefully still. But in a blink he’s smiling again, his hands going to unclip her bra. “Don’t worry yourself with that shit,” he chuckles. “I was only dreaming.”

Guilt turns Nesta’s stomach into sludge. She made Cassian share what was weighing on him only for her to brush it off. She wants to talk through it with him until he’s giving her a real smile, but she doesn’t know where to start or what to say. So she lets her bra drop to the floor and steps close to wrap her arms around him.

His breath hitches against her ear, and one of his broad hands comes up to rest on her bare back. “Two hugs in one day?” he says, his amusement covering up some deeper emotion. “I’m either doing something right or doing something very wrong.”

“No. I’m just feeling appreciative.” Her hand returns to that space between his shoulder blades, the spot that seems to disarm him, and pats him there. She gives herself a solid moment to luxuriate in the warmth and size and hard strength of him before saying, “Get undressed, will you?”

One of his hands squeezes her butt. “You need to get off me first.”

She hums in agreement but doesn’t move—hoping he can feel everything she doesn’t know how to tell him.

***

a/n: i bought my eid dress and it’s so pretty yall 🥺

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

#ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

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jeongvision · 3 years

Note

Member: Jaehyun

sugar dadddy au ,“Can I taste you?”

thankyou❤️

pairing. sugar daddy! jeong jaehyun ✗ sugar baby! fem! reader

genre. borderline smut, sugar daddy au, non idol au, strangers to lovers au

warnings. cursing, suggestive themes (heavy make-out scene), implied smut, not proofread bc i’m tired as heCk

author’s note. SKSKKS okay so kiss scenes are prob my BIGGEST weakness so bEAR WITH ME HERE i’m trying my best but feedback is awesome guys bc i can’t tell if i’m doing it right send help

Anyone born in the modern era can absolutely vouch that college is a fucking bitch to fund for, for society has decided that it would be a great idea to force the young generation into thousands of dollars in debt just to get a degree you probably won’t have a use for. In no way are you saying that obtaining an education is useless—in fact you love learning new things around the world—but you find it utterly repulsive that there is this pressure placed on you to get a college degree or else you’re deemed a failure to the public’s eye. And with the increasing debt from your loans and the interest rates attached to them, you were desperate to find different means in paying them off than working your ass off for the next twenty years.

What better way to pay them off by having someone pay it off for you?

Succumbing to the internet has landed you with a single businessman in his twenties, fully loaded with cash to spend on anyone who is willing to attend with him on one important business affair to scare off possible marriage proposals from his potential business partners.

The man’s name is Jung Jaehyun, and holy fuck is this man knees-down attractive. You were a little skeptical at first of his offer because what’s so hard about acting like a trophy girlfriend wrapped around someone’s arms when there at thousands out there that would do it for free? Whatever, you thought. Easy job, easy money. And it was an easy job indeed, for he was gentleman all throughout the whole evening. He made sure you were taken care of, pampered for, and made sure that you were comfortable for the entire evening you were with him. He was a sweetheart, and you felt like you were on the top of the world. You get to have your debts paid off and spend some time with an attractive businessman. Nothing gets better than this.

Oh darling, don’t speak too soon. This is just the beginning.

You sat in Jaehyun’s passenger seat as he drove you back to your home. For the first time in years, not a single dime in your wallet has been spent for the latter has provided it all just for you. From the dress you embodied to the jeweleries you complemented all the way down to the heels you traveled on, you wondered how this feels to be part of the upper class. To be able to afford such luxury without fear of making a dent in your bank account seems like a dream too good to be true. And yet here you are, having already a taste of what it’s like to become the rich, you couldn’t deny how glamorous you felt.

However, rules are rules, and it’s upsetting to say that you won’t be experiencing it again any time soon. You and Jaehyun have already agreed that this is a one-time arrangement and you two shall depart from each other’s live once he drops you off at your door. It’s a shame really because you were actually enjoying his company, exponentially exceeding your expectations of how a rich person acts. In the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, if you were to erase his title of a rich businessman, he is just like every one of your friends, just a dash more mature.

You let out a sigh. ‘If only I could spend a little more time with him,’ you thought.

“You okay, y/n?”

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts and looked over to the driver side, Jaehyun half-concentrating on the road and on you.

You giggled a little. “Yeah I’m okay,” you shrugged. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

The time on his dashboard currently reads 11:34pm, certainly coinciding with the dark skies splattered with millions of diamonds. You immersed yourself into the leather seat and looked out the window, gazing at passing cars and trees as you reached closer to your home.

You could hear a chuckle from his end. “I just want to say thank you for joining me tonight. It really means a lot to me.”

You smiled, your expression reflected on your windows to which he catches a glance of. “Of course, it’s the least I could do for our agreement.”

Right when those words left your mouth, there’s a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. You winced a little. Was it wrong of you to say? You’re not sure. One thing you’re sure of is that it’s the truth, and sometimes the truth hurts.

As your front door came to view, Jaehyun parks his car in your driveway. Turning the ignition off, he was quick to unbuckle and exit his vehicle to open your passenger door, sweetly smiling down at you. You couldn’t suppress the chuckle in you. “I guess chivalry is not dead,” you joked, earning a smirk from him. You got out of his car and walked up to your doorsteps, Jaehyun following behind once he shut and locked his door. You two stopped in front of your entrance and faced each other, your porch lights automatically illuminating the dark after sensing your presences.

He gazes down at you, intensely, eyes peering into your own that sends shivers down your spine.

“I-I guess this is goodbye then,” you whispered.

He nods, his eyes never leaving you. “I guess it is then.” You two continued to stare each other down, time slipping into a continuum where nothing else mattered in the world. It’s just you and him, alone at night, the crisp air failing to cool down your heated cheeks as he gazes down at you intensely.

You shakingly let out a sigh. “Be careful driving.”

And right when those words left your mouth, there’s a sweet taste left on your tongue, your body trapped against your front door. Jaehyun’s lips are pressed against yours, his arms pinned on both of your sides. You reciprocated his kisses, moaning in between as your mind loses all focus. He was soft, sweet, and so delectable that you left you wanting more, craving more.

He pulls apart from you, breathing heavily as a translucent thread of saliva connected both of your now-swollen lips. Your face is flushed, your pupils are dialated, and the growing tent in his pants makes it harder and harder to think rationally.

All throughout the night, he adored your innocent nature, finding it no less than adorable for a compassionate individual you are. In just a span of a few hours, he found you more intriguing than all the other women he encountered in his lifetime. He wanted to get to know you more, explore further into the depths of your lens and see the treasures that holds within.

He places his hands on your waist, pulling you close against his own body and knocking the air out of you. “Ma chérie,” he groans, “may I request one more favor of you for the evening?”

You wrap your arms around his neck to bring your face close to his own, your lips only gasp away from crashing into his.

There’s a saying that the eyes are the mirrors of one’s soul, and you’d be damned in hell for lying through your teeth that you didn’t anticipate for this moment to come. You saw how he looked at you the whole night, and you were dying to see more sides of him.

You nodded. “Be my guest, mon cher.”

He sighs deeply. “Can I taste you?”

May all your innermost desires be released from their shackles, for the taste of temptation is too great to bear within.

You let out a mischievous giggle. “Do as your wish, love.”

Oh darling, looks like your professors won’t be seeing you in class tomorrow.

jeongvision’s milestone event!

#jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun smut #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #jung jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x oc

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dreadwulf · 3 years

Text

2: The Black Mountains

Post-Apocalyptic Modern AU. Chapter 1 is here.

The last thing his right eye ever saw was Brienne.

In that eye she is shouting. Of course he couldn’t hear her at the time over the jeers of the Bloody Mummers tying him to the table. Their laughter had been right up against his ears and the sound of it drowned out everything else in that abandoned mall. The image is soundless: her mouth is just open, her throat pushing out a word that looks like No. Her blue eyes are also open wide, both frightened and angry, a righteous fury that came to him as a surprise, at the time.

She is a still image that resides in the abandoned nerves to that empty eye socket. If he cares to, he can still see her there, superimposed over everything.

She hovers over The Spider’s right shoulder just now. Still saying No.

He tries to focus on the Spider’s face instead. Varys raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow on his immaculate bald head.

“You can’t shoot anymore. Not like before, not with one eye. You know this.”

“I don’t mean to shoot.” Jaime shows his palms. “I have two hands still. I need a weapon I won’t have to aim.”

Varys measures this statement. He is a man who deals in knowledge more than goods, but he has an armed guard, and a collection of interesting weapons. Both for his own protection, and for use in acquiring the most valuable intel.

“In that case,” the Spider presses a button on the trailer wall. To one of the bikers, a large man with a burnt face who looks in the door in response to his call, he instructs, “bring me the Widow’s Wail.”

The same scarred man reappears with a comically oversized weapon in his hands. Turns out Widow’s Wail is an axe. It is a huge, two-handed, double-bladed axe and when the burnt biker hands it to Jaime his hands dip with the weight.

Axes, Brienne used to tell him, are the best weapon for killing Others. You don’t need to reload an axe. It can’t jam, doesn’t recoil. Simple and effective.

Messy though, he had said back. He had always preferred his rifle -- clean and fast, one shot and done, and hopefully at a distance. The Others would fall down like carnival targets, one after another, and his favorite jacket would remain spotless. But after they took his eye, he had needed a new weapon, and his jacket was long-ruined by then.

This is messy work, she had replied.

Now, he lifts the weapon, turns it one way and another. Both edges gleam in the fluorescent light. This axe has been sharpened recently. It is spotless. This weapon has never seen battle.

“It’s new,” Varys fills in immediately, “but it was designed to kill Others. Old valyrian steel, made the old way. We haven’t yet had opportunity to test it, but it will strike true.”

Jaime doesn’t ask how Varys would be able to make a valyrian steel weapon. Knowing how is what he does.

The Spider watches him curiously. “Are we square then, Slayer?”

“Almost.” He sits again, crosses the long weapon over his lap with both fists grasping it tightly. “Where did it happen?”

“In the North. What exactly happened is unclear even to me, but we know for certain she had traveled north with a small gang. There are reports of her at Winterfell, and then she went with Snow and a small band of Starks beyond the Black Mountains. They returned without her.”

Jaime nods shortly. “Winterfell, then the wilds.”

The Spider frowns. He is perhaps a little perplexed by this conversation, or by Jaime himself. He likes to think he knows people, knows how they will react. But recent years have made a different man of Jaime Lannister. The fall of King’s Landing, his father’s death, the business with Cersei -- after all that, the arrogant and impetuous adventurer of his younger days is long gone. He is a ghost of himself, and the Spider doesn’t know what this ghost will do. He doesn’t like that.

He sits up a little bit straighter on his couch. “Then it isn’t our local outbreak you intend to fight? I expected you would be nearby. Kill some Others, burn off some steam, and incidentally clear out some of the infestation in the Riverlands, which would be convenient for me. But you aren’t doing that, are you? You mean to follow her? To what purpose?”

Jaime’s eye flickers briefly right. “Hunting.”

“It will be pointless to mount a rescue mission, I assure you.”

“That isn’t the point.”

Their eyes meet for a moment. Jaime isn’t about to elaborate on his intentions, and Varys is visibly frustrated. His silky tones shorten, revealing something sharp beneath.

“I ought to stop you. You have brought order to the Westerlands, and you’re starting to bring it here too. Alliances, patrols for the roads. Your brother, clever as he is, did not do that. If you abandon these lands, it may all fall apart.”

Jaime feels a flicker of guilt for that, but it is quickly doused by everything else happening inside him. No, this is important. Maybe the most important thing he has ever done.

He shrugs stiffly. “If it falls apart without me, it was too fragile to last.”

“You’ll need more than an axe and your motorbike to make that journey. You have favors to trade, certainly,” Varys cuts him off before he can argue, “but not that many. The scouting party went beyond the Black Mountains, across them, into the far North. There are few enough waystations on the way to Winterfell, and everything North of Winterfell belongs to the Others. There will be no shelters for you along the way, no refuges, no refueling.”

Jaime is unconcerned. “If she made it there, then I can too.”

“The Blue Angel had a party of supporters, specialists. She would have been outfitted with the best supplies and equipment. She was welcomed everywhere she went, and at the peak of her powers. No offense, Slayer, but you are past your prime, and your powers lately end at the borders of Lannister territory.”

He smiles thinly as he stands. “I didn’t know you cared, Spider. Thanks for the weapon. We’re square.”

Jaime takes the axe outside, and stands staring up at the moon, while the bikers retrieve his motorbike.

Anytime he looks at the moon, anytime there is a moon, he thinks of her. Remembers how they had looked on it together, during those long nights on the road, even though they had parted years ago now. Her on to glory, him back to the arms of his family. They delivered the girls to Winterfell, and he left her to the Kingsroad. It was her territory after that, what once had been his. She had earned it in sweat and tears and blood. She tended it well without him. He had gloried in tales of her exploits.

Whenever he looks at the moon, he has always wondered if she is looking too. Wherever she is.

He thinks he will not be able to look at the moon anymore.

When he turns his head, Varys stands on the steps of his trailer, his bald head gleaming against the fluorescent light. Jaime has never seen him outside his trailer. It’s confusing, a little like seeing a penguin in the jungle.

“The Others of the Black Mountains are different,” The Spider warns him. “Worse.”

When his bike comes rolling back with two of the Spider’s bikers, it comes with a few more gifts. Two metal spheres, one the size of a softball and the other the size of a chestnut.

Grenades, obviously Old World. Gods know where Varys got them from, certainly they aren’t made this way anymore. What they’re calling grenades now will mostly just make noise. But these two could probably blow a hole in a tank. He packs them onto his bike carefully.

Any old-world weapon would be priceless now, Jaime knows. Varys would not overpay a debt.

He squints up at the Spider, who makes a silky shadow in the doorway against his light. “And the cost?”

The Spider smiles -- he can’t see it, on a shadow, but he can hear it in his voice. “If you come back, tell me what you saw. I hear very little of the Black Mountains and none of it first-hand.”

Jaime can promise that easily enough. He knows he won’t be coming back.

He walks his bike in silence about a mile up the road before waking the engines and roaring away.

He rides the motorbike until the last of his carefully hoarded gasoline is run out, rides right through the next day and into the night. Gets more miles out of it than he would have gotten with his creaky armored car, and certainly faster.

Along the way he sees no other travelers. Five years ago there would have been at least a few others, some other vehicles, perhaps spaced out and alone, perhaps all in a big caravan for safety. But there is not much fuel left anymore. And North is not a direction people go in now.

It was how he had met her, actually. On a road much like this one. He had been on a different motorbike and she had been driving a sedan. Obviously following him, less obvious why. He made it a chase - weaving between the stopped traffic, blasting around the walkers and cyclists and parades of cars going nowhere. She had somehow kept up with him, pushing her poor little car to its limits. Eventually he decided whoever it was had earned his attention for at least a few minutes, and he pulled over on the road to watch the tallest, ugliest woman he had ever seen unfold herself out of her car.

She kept his attention considerably longer than a few minutes. .

Of course, he could enjoy a chase back then - you could still count on petrol, could siphon it out of most any vehicle you encountered along the way. The cars along the road here are bone dry by now, haven’t moved in years, and the electronics, trunk supplies, and even promising upholstery have been stripped out of them long ago. The cars pass by now in muted streaks of blue and red, dulled by layers of paint-stripping weather damage and snow.

When his bike sputters to a stop, he leaves it right out on the highway. Packs his equipment onto his back. Then he begins to walk.

Without the headlights of his bike, it’s quite dark. No streetlights, of course. He has a torch in his bag, but he’s saving that battery as long as he can. Anyway, the moon is out, and once his eyes are adjusted he sees well enough. The trees encroaching on the interstate have not quite overtaken the shoulder, and the glow of moon and stars light up the cracked concrete in front of him, and glitter in the frost.

His boots echo his footfalls up and down the highway. First the gritty sound of gravel, and then the crunch of ice, and then the quieter scrunch of snow.

There are no other sounds to hear out here -- no bird cries, no insects. They aren’t sure if the animals are dead, hiding, or run away, but no one sees them anymore. Means he doesn’t have to worry about being eaten by bears, at least.

The last bear he has seen was that time with Brienne, actually. It might have been the last bear, period. He hasn’t heard of any other ones since. That would be a shame, if that had been the last bear, and they’d killed it. He hadn’t wanted to. He can’t take it personally, the bear trying to eat them. He was only hungry, and they were all very hungry that winter.

He didn’t know he would be fleeing the last bear in Westeros with her, when he met Brienne on the road. He only knew she was capable, and she was following him, and anyone out in the wilds could be dangerous. Out here other people were either foolishly overconfident, robbers, or competition.

Brienne proved to be the last type, possibly also the first. She was after the Stark bounty, same as him. She had a personal stake. He could keep the money, she said. He had a lot more experience and knew where he was going, but she could be an ally. She could help.

He had laughed in her face, more or less. Said she was free to make the bounty herself, but he traveled alone. Newbies tended to die almost immediately, and he hadn’t stayed alive this long by babysitting foolish college students. He would locate the missing Stark girls and deliver them home. But if she wanted to return them herself she’d have to beat him there.

A few weeks later they had wound up with one Stark girl apiece -- him with Sansa and her best girlfriend Jayne, her with Arya and her mate Gendry -- and again she had proposed an alliance for the trip up to Winterfell. No one had made it to Winterfell since the disaster, but their chances were better together, she said.

His better idea was that he could take the two valuable girls to Winterfell and she could take the two spares and go back to King’s Landing where it was safe, or jump in a lake for all he cared. But that conversation had been interrupted by the Bloody Mummers, and after that… things were very different after that.

Jaime slows to a stop with this remembrance, digs in his bag for his water bottle and takes a long pull. He’s tiring faster than he expected. He has tried to keep himself in fighting shape the last few years, but he hasn’t made a journey like this in a long time.

You’ve grown soft, he thinks, but inside his head it sounds like Brienne’s gentle ribbing. The tone she had taken after she stopped insulting him for real.

I’m refined, he answers back, slinging his pack over his shoulder and walking again. Answers between breaths, like he’s actually speaking. I’m a diplomat these days, remember?

Will you try to negotiate with the Others then? She laughs in his ear. What will you trade them, wine? Broken electronics? The only economy they know is violence, and we trade them blows.

He smiles to himself, despite everything. Young lady, it’s a good thing you didn’t come back to King’s Landing with me. You would have knocked out the Small Council within a day, and we’d both have been out on our asses.

And King’s Landing would have better off with us in the street than you in that office. We might have saved it. Old man, whatever have you done without me?

Jaime stops a moment, breathing hard, looking up at the moon.

I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ve been doing, where the time went. It all blurred together without you.

He has been having these conversations for years now. It isn’t exactly imagination. More prediction. He knows exactly what she would say in every instance. What she would think of the people he meets, the places he goes. He hears her critiques of his private practice sessions, when he tries to stay in shape for the inevitable invasion. Her quiet, private commentary. Her icy rejoinders to his jokes. They come to him like a reply. Like she has heard him gods-know-how-many miles away, and answered him back.

It’s painful now, hearing her voice. He doesn’t know why it would be different - alive or dead, he is only talking to himself after all. Perhaps it is only more obviously futile this way, knowing she is gone.

He was never going to see her again, he knows that. The things she does, they were always eventually going to get her killed. Hells, he told her that himself more than once.

Even now it still isn’t entirely real to him. It doesn’t seem possible. But the Spider knows things, and if he knows them they aren’t just rumors. It’s true. It’s sinking in. Brienne is gone.

She doesn’t walk the same world as him anymore. He will hear no more tales of her adventures, and smile privately at the things nobody else knows of her. He will not wonder if it snows where she is, or if the sun shines. Whether she ever thinks of him, the way he does of her. They traveled together only a year, but she carved a place for herself in him, in the slow and brutal way water carves a cliffside. He has kept her there all this time. Now in that space there is emptiness, a brutal, sucking vacuum that might just pull him apart if he stops moving long enough.

So he starts walking again. Keeps walking, on and on, without rest, for as long as he can stand it.

Here and there one of the Others comes onto the road ahead of him. They wander on and off aimlessly, looking lost. At a distance they look nearly alive, so long as they aren’t missing any limbs, and only the directionless of their movements give them away. As you get closer you can see their clothing is wrong -- it’s not enough clothes for the weather, or their clothes are torn, bits are missing. Maybe the clothes are rotting right off their bodies, if they’re been out long enough. Closer still and you can see the blueish tinge to the skin that the Others are famous for, the thin layer of frost that covers them head to toe. At ten feet or so you can make out the ice blue eyes that glow like cat’s eyes in the light. But by then they’ve seen you, and they move much faster than you think they can. Best not to get that close. Best to stay well away, and let them turn and wander in another direction out of sight.

As always, one wonders what they’re looking for. Where they’re going.

Some of them will wander away before he catches up, and he pays them no mind. If he is quiet, and they didn’t take notice of him, it is easier to let them pass by. Fighting can be loud, and that sort of noise could bring more of them running.

But eventually one is too slow. They can be damaged, and those stumbling steps can be frustratingly deliberate at times. This one is fairly tall, and drags its foot in the snow. On the highway, it reminds him of an elderly driver occupying the fast lane at a crawl. Even as he slows his pace, he gets closer and closer, and the dead thing shows no signs of changing direction.

Eventually he can wait no longer. He will have to overtake the creature. At least he hasn’t seen any other Others nearby. This Other shows no sign of noticing him. Jaime slowly draws the axe off his back, and makes six rapid, long strides in the thing’s direction, winding up for a massive crossways swing.

Varys didn’t lie; the axe cuts true. One good blow across the back is enough to bring it down, and he remembers where to strike. Sever the spinal cord, destroy the brain, or burn them, that destroys them. The axe is so sharp it cuts the thing nearly in half. There is a quick, sharp sound of impact and the thud of a body hitting the ground, and then silence.

They don’t scream, the others. They don’t make noises of any kind. Maybe because they don’t breathe anymore; who knows. He pulls the axe out of the thing’s bulk and wipes it in the snow.

The first Other to fall to him in five years that he didn’t hit with his car. It feels good. It doesn’t relieve the great sucking void he has inside him but it does feel good.

He shoulders the axe and keeps walking. After that, he strikes down one of them every few hours, until the sun comes up, and then he huddles on the embankment, dozing, for most of the morning. It’s not so cold he’ll freeze - not yet, anyway - and there aren’t so many Others around that he can’t risk it.

He’s lucky, for the most part. There aren’t any big clusters of Others out here. Those tend to form up around settlements and cities, or lingering around empty houses. Not out here in the open space, where there aren’t travelers anymore.

He passes the next night in a car, after crawling in a broken window. It’s not especially safer, but it is more comfortable than the ground. He sprawls across the backseat and thinks about the red wood-paneled station wagon he had found buried in a parking lot and managed to start. He and Brienne drove that car all the way to Harrenhall, the now five children sleeping in the back. The seat was so wide even Brienne could lay down in it, and she was inches taller than him.

This car is blue, and he has to bend his knees and curl up to fit on the seat.

Keep watch for me, Angel, he tells her, before he drifts off.

Days of steady walking pass this way, with fitful bursts of sleep.

The Black Mountains are looming in the far distance when he nears Winterfell. So tall he can see them all these miles away, staining the low edge of the horizon like a shadow.

Jaime keeps his eyes on the ground mostly. He’s only been here once, and it wasn’t an enjoyable visit. It was a destination, and it meant the end of a long journey. He’s never much liked those. Endings. He tries to get those over with. If he can help it, he’d rather turn around and begin again right away, try to get back to the middle.

Wintertown is relatively intact, patrolled by fur-clad soldiers with shotguns. The town has grown since he was here last. The streets have people on them now, much more than in Lannisport or anywhere in the Riverlands. No cars, but regular people, old folks and even children, strolling about. He has to stop and stare at that for awhile. Pedestrians. It’s been a long time.

Perhaps things are better in the North? Maybe they are safer than they were. But Wintertown is small, and easily guarded, and in the shadow of the old Winterfell fortress these people know they can flee within its walls and be safe, should the Others attack again. That’s more reassurance than most places have.

For a little while he walks up and down those streets, just another window-shopper. The buildings are mostly refitted as residences, but on the sidewalks people sell goods out of carts, or spread out on the sidewalk. Wanderers come through and trade the trinkets they’ve found. There aren’t prices. Most likely they will take food, and medicine, and more practical items, in trade. He didn’t bring anything like that, unfortunately. But there isn’t anything he needs here.

At the end of a long boulevard Jaime finds himself before the gates of Winterfell, and he pauses.

This was where he had parted from her. Right here.

He grimaces past that memory. He was an ass about it, of course. Tried to sneak away. She caught him. There was a confrontation. Things were said.

Things? Brienne-in-his-mind prods him indignantly. Have you forgotten already?

I remember every word. He sighs. Unfortunately.

The gates to Winterfell stand open for now. Probably so that Wintertown can run inside, if someone rings the alarm. Jaime passes through and takes the gravel path to the old castle. It’s a sturdy thing, for being several hundred years old. Solid and undecayed. Sure, they have to replace the wood every few decades, but the stone is thick and unbroken. There are walls behind walls, like any medieval keep, and courtyards and gates separating them. Guards stand atop the fortifications with guns, and they watch him approaching. Wary, but welcoming. Anyone not undead is allowed to pass through, at least to the midden.

The kids are here at Winterfell, probably. Somewhere. Many of them stayed, he has heard. The Starks for sure, and maybe some of the other strays he and Brienne had picked up along the way. Any of the running kids in Wintertown could have been Apple, that baby that Willow and Sansa had fawned over. He would be five, six years old now. That is, if he were alive.

He doesn’t want to see any of them if he can help it. Best not to go inside the Great Keep then. He goes to the Great Hall instead. The velvet ropes are all taken down. It was a tourist trap for a lot of years, before its fortifications became unexpectedly useful again. Used to be you could get a feast inside, with cosplayers and a jester and a bard, and then you could get back in your car and drive away home.

Bit different now. The fires are still roaring, but put to more practical use. Broken furniture surrounds the great fireplaces where they have been stripping the upholstery and feeding the fire. Laundry is strung up before them, and boils in great kettles. Nearer to mealtime the laundry will be replaced with soup and stew. The fireplaces in the living quarters had been stripped out long ago, replaced with appliances that no longer work. They have to do nearly everything in the great hall now, and gather in smaller rooms.

The head washerwoman takes his message back to the living quarters and Jaime sits down to wait. There is an armchair that is strikingly comfortable for as old as it looks, upholstered in a velvety material. It might be some kind of antique, something with a PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH sign on it back when this was a museum. There isn’t much use for antiques anymore. He sits in the chair.

He sits back and stares at nothing for a time. He might have fallen asleep, because the girls appear as if by magic, just as he remembers them but taller and leaner, their chubby faces hollowed by early adulthood.

Sansa is quite tall, for a Stark anyway. She looks like her mother otherwise; red-haired, high-cheekboned, very pretty. Her sister looks like their father, sturdy and strong-jawed, Northern. They stare at him owlishly, and he wonders what he looks like to them. He is not nearly so changed -- grew a beard, added some lines around his eyes -- but they were children when they saw him last, and they are not children now. He has to look up to see them.

“You came for Brienne,” Arya says abruptly -- as usual she realizes the obvious first and doesn’t hesitate to speak it aloud.

Jaime nods. There isn’t much more to say than that.

“We had a memorial,” Sansa hovers over him awkwardly, looking unsure. “All of Winterfell came, much of Wintertown as well. We would have waited if we had known you would come.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?” He says it more sharply than he intends.

Arya snaps back. “You’ve been gone a long time, and not a single letter. What else could we think?”

Sansa stops her with a hand to her shoulder. She was always an empathetic child. “You’re welcome here now. Can I get you anything?”

“Your brother. If he’s here.” His eyes drift to Widow’s Wail, where it sits on the floor beside him. “I’ve heard he was there when it happened. I need to hear it from him.”

Sansa leans forward and touches his hands, briefly. “We can take you to him.”

He can only nod.

He follows the girls through the old fortress into a more modern living area. Home, most like. The Starks have all congregated here, the ones left.

Jon Snow he has never met before. The girls’ half-brother. Lord Snow of Winterfell, now. He stands straight and stiff, trying to look older than he is. He has a warm parka on over his polar fleece, something puffy and filled with down. It’s hard to be serious in a puffy coat without coming off at least faintly ridiculous, but the young man manages it somehow.

“She was a great help to my family,” Jon says, and shakes his hand vigorously. “A great fighter, the bravest of all of us, and the kindest too. Every one of us here at Winterfell thought very highly of her.”

“And your mission?” Jaime shuts down the reminiscence quickly. He does not want to remember Brienne here. Certainly not with the Starks.

Jon hangs his head. “It wasn’t a complete waste. But it wasn’t quite what we wanted, either.”

He gestures to a sofa. Jaime sits on the edge of it, unwilling to relax. This is rather too much civilization for him right now. Jon sits down expansively on an easy chair, and runs a hand through wild black hair.

“We were hoping to find something that would explain where the Others come from. We thought the Black Mountains might have the answer, the mountains and the land beyond. It’s hard to find much on the Mountains though -- only one road is passable, everywhere else is ice and deep snow. Beyond the Mountains there is a place they’re calling Craster’s Keep. We knew something was very wrong there. We should have stayed away.” Jon shakes his head, so serious.

Jaime waits.

“We suspected they were colluding with the Others somehow. The ones on the Mountain. The old man… it was terrible. What he was doing. We had to put a stop to it. Brienne followed one of the men to their meeting place, where the Others come down the Mountain. She never came back.”

That is rather less definitive than Jaime wants to hear.

“That’s all? Did you search?” he asks sharply.

Jon looks defensive at first, but softens quickly. “I assure you, if there was anything to find, we would have found it. We were very fond of her. There were signs of a battle, and several Others fallen there. But of her there was no sign. There was no body.” Jon looks reluctant to continue. “We did find this.”

Hesitantly, he holds out the wrapped bundle to Jaime. He knows it immediately. Takes it like he took the grenades, carefully and reluctantly.

His hands unwrap the thing before he can think twice, to show himself what he already knows. It’s Brienne’s titanium bat. Bloodstained, dirty, with a single chip in it near the tip.

They had nicknamed it Oathkeeper, way back then. It was more like a mythical sword than a bat. Titanium bats weren’t even allowed in baseball, in any league. They hit the ball so hard it was dangerous to the other players. They probably shouldn’t have been made in the first place, and they stopped making them decades before the Others came and their true usefulness became apparent.

Jaime holds the bat. Brienne had carried this thing for so long. He puts his fingers where she would have put hers, the way a player held it to hit a ball. He can see the mark of her fingers there, slowly rubbed into the metal across the years.

Jon is still talking. “These Others are different. Our Others will kill and turn. But these... We suspect that they consume the bodies instead of raising them. I think there was nothing remaining to find.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jaime stands.

“If you will insist…” Jon rises as well, solemn. “My friend Sam stayed behind there. If you reach Craster’s Keep, ask for Sam. He’ll tell you what you need to know.”

*****************

He passes a night there, lying awake in a bed.

They gave him her room. A quiet, out-of-the-way guest bedroom with little in the way of modern amenities. It has a homey feeling, just the same. It feels like her.

She left some things there; little knick-knacks. She liked to pick up small things, put them in her pockets. Her coat had loads of pockets hidden everywhere. By the end of the day she would have lots of little treasures. You could turn her upside down and shake her and all sorts of shiny treats would come rolling out. Figurines, stones, tiny toys. They’re arranged all around the room, on the windowsill, on the dresser. Probably if he went through her clothes he would find more things still hidden away in her pockets. The coat, though, that wouldn’t be there in the closet, he knows without looking. She would have it with her, wherever she has gone.

Jaime leaves her things alone. It’s enough to know they’re there, waiting for her.

Brienne slept in this bed. This is the only home she had, so far as he knows. She stayed here after he left, here at Winterfell. She would have rested here -- she was still a little sick. It had been a few weeks, at least, before she went back to the Kingsroad. After that she came back here between adventures, making the long, dangerous journey there and back again. In the dead of winter she would rest here at least a month, from what he could tell, every year.

He should have stayed with her.

She never asked him. Not out loud. But he knows, deep down, he would have been welcome. He knew it then, too. But he had left her at Winterfell and gone back. Back to the arms of his family who needed him more than she ever would. Back to his father and his expectations, to his siblings who needed his protection. The job was over, and he went back to where he belonged.

Not a day has gone by that he doesn’t regret it.

************************

In the morning he is lacing his new boots in the great hall, a gift from Jon. They are a little large, but warm, and useful for maneuvering on ice. He suspects they had once belonged to Ned Stark; certainly none of the Stark boys have feet this big.

Jon has also given him a down parka like his own. Such a thing would fetch a lot in trade these days, but he insists Jaime take it. “This is the least I can do, for bringing my brother and sisters home.”

Jaime promises to return it, though he can see that Jon does not expect to see him at Winterfell again. Neither of them do.

His pack has been refilled with food, bandages, antiseptic, and an icepick. Arya had thrust the bag at him wordlessly and turned on her heel and left and he does not see her again. How much and how little people change from when they are small; he can still see the dark-eyed child in the woman she is becoming. It makes him feel positively ancient.

Sansa accompanies him to the gates of Winterfell, gliding elegantly over the snow in her warm winter coat. She chatters as much as she always did, though it was never to him before. She used to keep her distance from him, as she had from most men. She misses Brienne, he realizes, looking at her. She must have been like an older sister, or an aunt, or...

He never did lay eyes on Rickon, did he? He is probably running wild somewhere, running with the wolves. He doesn’t ask, though he suspects Sansa would like him to. Nor does he ask about Willow, or Gendry, or any of the others. He has too much to carry already.

“You’re different,” Sansa tells him, nearing the gates.

“You’re older,” he says. “You see me better.”

“Maybe.” The auburn beauty frowns. “Do you think she’s still alive out there?”

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to see the concern on her face, not if it’s for him.

“Do you think Brienne would want you to do this? Go after her like this?”

No. “That won’t stop me.”

“She would want you to go on with your life.”

“I don’t care.” He can’t quite look at Sansa. He couldn’t look at Arya either. They remind him of too much.

“Why did you never come back? She waited for you. She was still waiting.”

He shuts his eyes against her. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t. Not now.”

Sansa sniffles, and her voice trembles. “I’m so sorry. You were both so good to us. I’m so sorry,” she repeats, and tries to put her arms around him, but he’s already walking away.

He’s going through the gates of Winterfell, straight down the boulevard of Wintertown.

He doesn’t stop. He turns to the Black Mountains, and keeps walking.

#dreadwulf fic #And You Will Know Them By The Trail of Dead #braime #jaime x brienne #modern AU #Zombie AU #though ASOIAF is already a zombie AU this is just... a different one

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